Fragments
by amamiya
Summary: Kenshin wakes up in a strange place with no memory of his past. A little backyard psychotherapy ensues -with amber-eyed consequences- while Kaoru thinks Kenshin has left her. To top it all off, there are still bad guys around who want Battousai dead.
1. Prologue

A crow was sitting on the dead tree stump, eyeing Sasami as she made her way down the narrow path. The large basket was heavy; she carried it with difficulty. It was laden with fresh produce from their farm; cabbages, radishes and carrots, which she was taking to the local market to try and sell. It was a fair walk for Sasami, but it was the only means by which Sasami and her ailing grandfather could earn a little money.

Sasami rounded a large thicket of bushes and came to a small clearing. Here the path widened, and became a little easier to traverse until it wound back into the trees ahead. Sasami gasped, shocked.

Bodies littered the ground; large men lay across the grass and at first Sasami thought they had been killed, however on further inspection she realised all of the men were still breathing. They had been knocked unconscious... but how? One of the men groaned in pain and opened an eye to stare at her.

Sasami stepped back, afraid, but the man was in a haze of agony and he slumped back dow. Sasami put her basket down and looked around in panic. What could she do? It would not be right to just... leave them like this. They needed help. She looked around, gasping as she noticed a trail of barely dried blood smeared across the grass. Someone was injured! Sasami's wide eyes followed the trail of darkening blood, which led to the small figure of a man. He had fainted at the base of a tree; in one hand he clutched a strange looking sword.

Sasami took one more look at the man and then started running - towards town.

***

She reached the clinic out of breath and with sore feet, but Sasami ignored the pain. She rapped on the door.

"Doctor Yoshikawa!" she cried, banging harder. Yoshikawa was the man who treated her grandfather. Surely he would know what to do! "Doctor! Please come quickly!"

Sasami breathed a small sigh of relief as the shoji slid open and the doctor appeared, looking as if he had just woken up.

"Sasami, what are you doing here so early? What is wrong, my child?"

"You have to come, doctor," she panted, still out of breath. "There are many men... in the clearing... wounded... they need your help!"

"Calm down Sasami," reassured the doctor. "Let me fetch my things."

Sasami watched - wide eyed - as Dr. Yoshikawa went to get his black medical bag. The doctor called for his young assistant Ryuji, who appeared from an adjacent room. He eyed Sasami with some surprise

"Now then Sasami." The doctor was unflappable, even in the face of Sasami's anxiety. "Where is this disaster you have told me about?"

"This way!" And then she began to run, this time a little slower so the doctor and his assistant could follow. They made their way to the outskirts of town and through a small patch of forest before reaching the clearing. Ryuji. let out a large breath at the sight of so many wounded men, while Doctor Yoshikawa simply shook his head.

"I wonder what could have happened to cause this..." None of the men were dead; that he could see quite clearly, however a few of them were quite badly beaten; the doctor could see large welts and not more than a few broken bones. One of the poor fellows rolled over and opened his eyes to stare at the doctor.

"Damn... hurts..." groaned the man. "Got beaten.... bad... ugh." He tried to sit up, but the pain was too much; no doubt the fellow had one or two cracked ribs. Dr. Yoshikawa bent down and put a firm hand on the man's chest.

"Stay right where you are, son. You're in no condition to be moving just yet. I'll bring some help as soon as I can."

"Doctor!" The Yoshikawa looked down as he felt a gentle tugging on his sleeve. Sasami's eyes were wide with concern. "There's a man over there... he's bleeding badly."

"Show me." Dr. Yoshikawa looked at his assistant, who was a little ashen-faced. "Ryuji, will you please run back to town and find my son? Eiji should be in the clinic. Please tell him to come here with as many men and stretchers as he can find."

"Hai!" Ryuji nodded and disappeared as fast as his legs could take him, heading for the town. Yoshikawa took Sasami's hand as she dragged him towards the tree. Her movements betrayed her impatience.

The doctor noted the trail of blood, which was beginning to dry. Whoever had been wounded had bled profusely; it would be quite a serious injury. His eyes followed the trail to a small figure; a man whom at first Yoshikawa mistook for a child, who was slumped near the base of a tree. However as the doctor looked more closely, he realised that the boy was in fact a man. He was so still that Yoshikawa wondered if he was really alive. Gently, oh so gently, the doctor knelt down and uncurled the man's fingers from the hilt of a sword. He then turned the body over. For possessing such a small body, the man was deceptively heavy. Yoshikawa put two fingers to the man's throat and was mildly surprised to feel a pulse; however faint.

"He's alive," he whispered, for Sasami's benefit. The girl had gone quiet. Across the man's faded gi a large red stain had blossomed, and immediately Yoshikawa ripped the fabric aside. His eyebrows rose at what he saw.

"This man has been shot!" He motioned for Sasami to pass the medical bag. The doctor opened it and pulled out swathes of bandages. He wiped away most of the congealed blood from the man's chest and bound the wound as tightly as he could. With all the blood he had lost, Yoshikawa was surprised that the slight man was still alive.

"He must have incredible stamina," muttered the doctor as he tied the bandages tightly. In relief he noticed that the bullet had penetrated the flesh cleanly; it had not ruptured any major arteries or shattered any bone, so it would be a relatively simple operation to remove it.

"Is he... gonna be alright?" asked Sasami hesitantly. Yoshikawa allowed himself a small smile at this girl's concern for a complete stranger.

"I'm quite sure he will be," he reassured her. "As soon as we get him back to the clinic I can operate on him, and I'll fix him up, don't you worry about that."

The doctor stood up and surveyed the rest of the men. He would have his work cut out for him today. Both Yoshikawa and Sasami simply stood still for a while, waiting for the men to arrive from the town. The morning air was cool and crisp, and the sound of chirping birds could be heard quite clearly in the stillness of the clearing. At the sound of voices, Yoshikawa looked towards the grove of trees, through which he could see a small army of men, some of whom were bearing stretchers. At their head was his son Eiji, who had shed his cook's apron for once.

"Father!" he called, as Yoshikawa motioned them over to where he stood. "What happened here?"

"I'm not quite sure," replied the doctor. "However I need a stretcher for this man." He gestured towards the wounded man. "He has been shot, and needs to be taken to the clinic as soon as possible." Yoshikawa turned to his aide.

"Ryuji! Help me to carry him please."

"Yes, Yoshikawa-sama." The young man and the doctor gently lifted the injured man onto a stretcher and made for the town, Sasami on their heels. Yoshikawa noticed that she had picked up the man's sword. When they reached the clinic, both men, despite being tall and relatively fit, were out of breath. Ryuji and Yoshikawa brought the patient to the operating bench, the latter with a small sigh of relief. Doctor Yoshikawa was getting old, and carrying an injured man on a stretcher was not as easy has it had once been.

***

The operation was a relatively simple one, with the bullet coming out easily; the doctor simply plucked it out of the wound with a pair of tweezers and dropped it into a metal dish with a satisfying clang. Then it was a simple case of disinfecting the wound and stitching it up. Yoshikawa nodded in approval as Ryuji tied off the last stitch with clean, economical movements.

"Very good, Ryuji," he murmured. "He should be all-right now; all that he needs is a great deal of rest. He's lost a huge amount of blood." And indeed their patient, with his deathly pallor, was beginning to show it. Yoshikawa wondered briefly who this man was. It was not every day that you received a patient who had been shot. In this era, such cases were becoming rarer and rarer. Gently, the doctor brushed away the red hair which covered half of his patient's face. In sleep, the man was almost beautiful, the doctor had to admit. The sharp features were nearly feminine, and yet unmistakably male; they were marred only by an odd scar which covered the stranger's cheek.

"What an odd looking fellow," muttered Yoshikawa, before his attention was diverted by the voices of men. It seemed that the rest of the injured were being brought in. He would be kept busy for some time yet.

"Let's take him to another room," he suggested to Ryuji. The younger man nodded, before narrowing his eyes.

"I don't mean any disrespect, Yoshikawa-sama, but..." he hesitated, as the doctor looked at him. "By treating this man... do you think that we will bring trouble to the clinic?"

"I understand your concerns, Ryuji," replied Yoshikawa, "however, it is everyone's right to be treated. If we have brought trouble upon ourselves by simply doing our duty... then..." The doctor shrugged as if there was no help for it. "I will not refuse any patient the care which he deserves."

Ryuji nodded, although this answer troubled him a little. "If you say so, doctor." Then both of them gently lifted their patient onto the stretcher and took him to the adjoining room where he could rest. Out in the hallway, Yoshikawa almost tripped over Sasami, who had been sitting patiently by the door.

"Oh my dear," he laughed, admiring the little girl's courage. She had been waiting for the better part of an hour. "I think your new friend is going to survive. He certainly owes you a great debt." Yoshikawa noticed that the girl still clutched the sword tightly by the hilt. "What do you have there, Sasami?"

"It's his sword," she replied, holding it out for the doctor to see. Ryuji also looked at the sword, his curiosity piqued.

"A reverse blade?!" he exclaimed. "But what use is that?"

"I think we now know why all of those other men have broken bones and bruises. The blunt side of a blade would inflict such injuries. Whoever your friend is, Sasami, he must be one hell of a swordsman."

Sasami clutched the blade even more tightly. Yoshikawa put a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder.

"You were very brave today," he said. "Sasami, you should go home now. I think you have done enough for today, and your grandfather will be worried. Come back tomorrow to collect his medicine, and you can visit your stranger if you like, although I do not think that he will be conscious for a few days yet."

"Uh..." Sasami hesitated, before nodding. "Thank you, doctor."

The doctor smiled and patted Sasami on the head. "You're a good girl," he said. "Now get home and give old Fujiwara-san my regards."

"Yes, sir."


	2. Amnesia

His eyes opened slowly to a thin sliver of sunlight which pierced the dark room through a small opening in the window. He took a deep breath and ignored the confusion in his mind, instead concentrating on the simple task of sitting up.

It was hard. A terrible pain lanced through his left shoulder, but he ignored it, gritting his teeth and forcing himself to sit. He finally managed to heave himself into an upright position, but he felt weak; terribly weak. He brought his right hand up tentatively to feel the bandages which were wrapped around his left shoulder. He had been injured; wounded. He felt a hot flash of anger pass through him. Who had done such a thing? The feeling passed as quickly as it came, as he realised that he could not remember what had happened. Where was he? What had happened? His surroundings were unfamiliar, and that made him feel uneasy.

He was lying on the floor; on a tatami, with only a single blanket covering his naked body. Slowly, he rose to his feet. His legs wobbled and threatened collapse, but he managed to stand; he _forced_ himself to stand.

He was naked, so he wrapped the blanket around his waist, preserving his modesty, and made for the door. He needed to find someone, _anyone_, who could tell him where he was, and more importantly, what had happened. Using his right hand, he slid the shoji open silently and padded barefoot down the hallway. There was someone in the room furthest from him, and he could smell food. In response, his stomach rumbled, and he wondered how long it had been since he had eaten.

He came to the last room, and peered through the open doorway. It appeared to be the house's kitchen, and there was a man standing over a simmering pot, adding vegetables to it. As he entered the man looked up, an expression of surprise upon his face.

"You...?" he exclaimed. "What are you doing out of bed? You're in no condition to be up already! I'm amazed that you are even able to walk!"

"What?" The patient looked at him, a quizzical expression on his face. "Who are you? And what am I doing here?" There was a terrible haze in his mind; he could not seem to piece his thoughts together.

"You were shot," replied the man, who looked to be in perhaps his fifties. He was a large man with greying hair, but the patient noticed that his hands were smooth and delicate. The hands of an educated man. "We found you not far from here. You had lost a lot of blood, so we took you to the clinic, and I treated your injuries. My name is Doctor Yoshikawa."

"Ah." The patient paused for a moment, lost in thought. "Thank you... doctor," he said eventually. The name had not rung any bells, and he still had no memory of what had caused his wounds.

"Although I am surprised," continued the doctor, "that you are able to walk already. I imagine that you would be feeling incredibly weak, judging from the amount of blood that you lost."

"Yes." Unable to help himself, the patient's eyes flickered over to the pot, in which meat and vegetables were simmering tantalisingly. The doctor noticed this and smiled.

"No doubt you'll also be incredibly hungry. Lunch will be ready soon, and then you can meet my assistant, Ryuji, who stitched up your wound... but first tell me, young man... what is your name?"

To his horror, the patient discovered that he could not form an answer.

"I..." He paused long enough for the silence to become uncomfortable, before shaking his head. "I don't know."

* * *

"Oh dear." Doctor Yoshikawa frowned. "I didn't think that this would happen. You must have been hit on the head. Tell me... do you remember anything? Anything at all about your past?"

"The last thing I remember is waking up here."

"Oh dear."

"Amnesia, de gozaru yo." A bleak glimmer of understanding surfaced in the patient's eyes.

"Yes." Yoshikawa paused and looked at the young man curiously. "What did you just say?"

"I said 'amnesia'."

"No, after that."

"I didn't say anything after that."

"Yes you did." Yoshikawa was eager for any little thing that would help him to gain a foothold into this man's past. "It sounded like 'de gozaru yo'. No-one talks like that anymore, young man. Why did you say that?"

"I... I am not sure."

"Curious..." muttered the doctor. "It's very strange." The young man before him was suddenly an enigma; a mystery which the doctor hungered to unravel.

"You have no recollection of anything... before you woke up? Nothing at all? Names, places... even your childhood?"

"Nothing..." The patient suddenly had to sit down; he looked as if he were about to faint. The doctor noticed this and shook his head.

"You are in no condition to be up and moving," he chided. "If you want to heal quickly you must get a proper rest. Let me help you back to your bed."

Impatience flickered across the young man's features. "I've been 'resting' for two days already," he said in irritation. "I should go and..."

"And what?" asked the doctor. "You have nowhere to go to, young man, not until you regain your memory. I suggest that you go and lie down. I will bring you something to eat when the food is cooked."

The patient hesitated, and the doctor sensed he could be incredibly stubborn at times.

"The more you rest, the faster you will heal," he suggested gently, and the young man nodded.

"Fine." He gave in. "I will return to my room." The doctor nodded in approval, as if he had won a small war. For a man whose wits were supposedly addled, the patient was coping remarkably well. Doctor Yoshikawa watched as the young man turned slowly and walked out of the room. He smiled a little, noticing that the patient had bound his only blanket around his waist, and yet his eyes narrowed as he noticed the many scars which covered his patient's upper body.

The young man was small and lithe; he looked like a warrior, judging from his economy of movement - even when he was weakened from injury - and the sinewy quality of his muscles. All of this was noted somewhat absently by the doctor, who filed away the information in his mind. The patient had certainly piqued his curiosity.

* * *

The room was still dark, so the patient opened the windows, allowing bright midday sunlight to flood in. The doctor had told him to rest, but he was too agitated to lie down. Instead, he decided to sit against the wall with his legs crossed. That particular position, he decided, was a comfortably familiar one, and yet something was missing. He closed his eyes and tried to think; to remember something, but all that came back to him was his encounter with Yoshikawa.

_"Amnesia, de gozaru yo."_

_"Yes."_

Why had he spoken like that? The archaic polite speech... was it some kind of show of respect to his betters? The next thing you know, he'd be referring to himself as 'sessha'.

_Sessha._

Now why did that also sound disturbingly familiar?

"I am..." he began, testing the words. "My name is..." He paused. "Sessha wa..."

Then he shook his head. That was foolish. He breathed deeply and forced himself to relax. His memory was not something that he could unlock by himself; of that he was certain.

* * *

After a while the doctor came in with a steaming bowl of soup on a large tray. When he saw that his patient was not lying on the tatami he briefly felt a moment of panic, but then he realised that the young man was sitting in the shadows, with his back to the wall. He was sleeping; the eyes were closed and the face was expressionless. Yoshikawa decided against waking the patient, and was about to creep out of the room when the young man's eyes opened.

"Please," he said softly, "don't leave. I'm hungry."

"Ah... I thought you were asleep..."

"Not asleep... just resting."

"Well... here you are." The doctor set the tray down in front of the man and then sat down beside him. There was a strange look him the patient's eyes, and for the first time Yoshikawa realised that he could not discern exactly what colour they were.

"Tell me," he said quietly. "What were you thinking about?"

The young man smiled, but it was an empty smile. "Not thinking, doctor, but merely wondering... just wondering..."

"Who you are?"

"And everything else."

"I will tell you how I am going to treat you." Yoshikawa turned to face his patient, who looked up with interest. "In the Western world... particularly in Europe... they are trying to develop methods of treating this kind of thing... this retrograde amnesia which you are suffering from. One of the ways in which doctors try to trigger a response from the patient is through hypnosis."

"Hypnosis?"

"I will lull you into a state of relaxation to try and stimulate your memories and imagination. Hopefully I can trigger a memory which we can use as a foothold into your mind."

"Perhaps..." The young man looked troubled.

"You do not trust me?"

"I am just skeptical, that is all." The young man picked up his chopsticks and began to eat, while the doctor watched him. "I think that I would be better off going out; walking around; seeing things. Perhaps I will remember something then."

"Ah. You don't believe me." Yoshikawa anticipated the challenge eagerly. "Westerners might seem strange to us, however their medicine is really something. If you doubt it, perhaps we can start now."

"If you say so." The patient set down his empty bowl and then sipped a small cup of tea.

Yoshikawa rubbed his hands together. "As soon as you are ready, we will start. Perhaps you would like to rest, after your meal?"

"No, I feel fine. Go ahead."

"Very well." The doctor pointed to the tatami. "Lie down there, and close your eyes. Try to relax."

The patient nodded and made his way towards the tatami, where he lay down, favouring his right shoulder. Yoshikawa hesitated for a moment. He had never tried psychotherapy on anyone before; he had only read about it in Western medical journals.

But there was a first time for everything. He was certain that, with this patient, he could succeed. As he spoke, the tone of his voice became much softer, almost soothing.

"Just relax now, and clear your mind. I want you to breathe very, very deeply. Breathe slowly; let your lungs fill as much as they can and then breathe out until all the air in your body has been expelled. Good. Breathe in, and breathe out... in, and out. Relax." The doctor kept talking, making his voice soft and rhythmic until he could sense that the pattern of the patient's breathing was no longer forced.

"Very good," he said. "You are now in a state of deep relaxation, however when I clap my hands twice, you will become totally alert and awake." He paused, allowing time for this information to sink in. "Now I am going to ask you a series of questions. Then I will recite a series of random words. When I say these words, I want you to tell me the first thing that springs to your mind. Am I clear?"

"Yes," mumbled the patient.

"Good. Now tell me, young man. Who are you?"

The patient then did something very strange. He smiled - a false, practised smile. "Sessha wa rurouni, de gozaru yo," he said brightly, not letting the smile slide off his face. The doctor had been around men long enough to be able to tell that this was all a farce; a rehearsed response.

"I don't think that you really understood my question, young man. I said, who are you?!"

"Just passing through, de gozaru yo."

"What is your name?!"

"Oro?!"

Oro? Yoshikawa frowned. Why was the patient pretending to be an imbecile? It seemed that he had already hit a dead end. No, he wouldn't get anywhere with this tack. He would need to be more subtle.

"It is night-time," he suggested suddenly, softly. "There is a full moon in the sky, and you are alone... what can you see?"

"Night," repeated the young man. "Night... and it is cold. My hands are sore and dirty... but never mind... it is not important..."

"What's not important?"

"Nothing... I have to go and prepare dinner..."

"Why are your hands sore and dirty?"

"Hands?" The patient laughed. To Yoshikawa, it was an eerie, shocking sound. "It is nothing, sumimasen! Do not worry."

The doctor frowned. Just as he thought he had been making headway, there came that idiotic fool's act again. What was he hiding? Even when hypnotised, this patient would not reveal his mind. Yoshikawa decided to try something else.

"What is your favourite food?"

"Tuna… otoro..."

"What is your favourite colour?"

"Blue."

"What colour is your hair?"

"Red."

"What is the capital of Japan?"

"Tokyo."

"What is the capital of England?"

"London."

"What is one plus one?"

"Two."

"What is your name?"

"Shinta."

"Really?"

"Yes... no... NO!"

"Then what is your real name?"

"I don't know." The patient became silent. "You tricked me," he said, suddenly sounding betrayed... betrayed, and childish. "That was not very nice."

"I didn't trick you. You answered me of your own free will."

The young man paused, apparently deep in thought. "I suppose you did. I won't fall for your tricks again."

"Indeed?"

"Nah. I never fall for the same trick twice." Even the patient's accent had changed slightly; he was speaking with the voice of a child.

"Well then, mister... what should I call you?"

"Just Shinta."

"Shinta, then." The doctor nodded, having gleaned this piece of information, however tentative. "What do you think about when I say the word... horse?"

"Nothing much... I think my parents owned a horse, once. Horses are smelly."

"What about... radish?"

"Hot... but it's food..."

"Sun."

"In the sky, bright..."

"Girl."

"Sister... dead..." At this, the doctor searched the patient's face. The young man's tone of voice had suddenly darkened. He pressed on, insistent.

"Boy."

"Me."

"Soliders."

"Ishin-Shishi. Dead. Naive... All dead." The trick, decided the doctor, was to keep changing, to keep the patient off balance, so that he had no chance to form a defence.

"Sword."

"Mine is bloody."

What a very curious, intriguing response.

"Blood."

"Under my fingernails. It's hard to get it out... I scrub and scrub..." The young man's voice had changed again; it had become cold and expressionless.

Despite himself, the doctor shivered.

"Why is there blood under your fingernails?"

As soon as he asked the question, there was a pause, and Yoshikawa knew he had overstepped his boundaries. The patient had almost stopped breathing; his face was a blank mask.

"What's it to you?" he asked finally; icily, his voice soft and dangerous.

"Did you kill someone?"

"Many."

"How many?" Yoshikawa made his voice soft enough to match the patient's.

There was no reply. The red-haired man's face appeared smooth, without expression. Yoshikawa had no idea what was going on inside his mind. He felt as if he had lost control of the interview.

That was enough. The doctor clapped his hands twice. He wasn't sure if he was ending it for the patient, or for himself. Right now though, he was too frightened to continue. The young man's eyes opened slowly, and in the afternoon light they looked oddly yellow. Strange. Yoshikawa could've sworn they had been violet before.

"Your name is Shinta," was the first thing that he said. The man locked gazes with him, and Yoshikawa found himself unable to break free from those intriguing eyes.

"No it isn't." The patient shook his head with certainty. "Whatever it is, it is not Shinta."

"I have to call you something. Would you prefer to be known as 'the patient'?"

"Very well. For the meantime I will be Shinta. What did you discover?"

"It's hard to say at this point..."

"Tell me."

The doctor paused. How could he phrase this? _Shinta, I think may have done terrible things, in the past. Oh, by the way, your favourite colour is blue._

"Fragments..." he said finally. "Bits and pieces of your past. If I piece them together I get nothing."

"I remember nothing either. So much for your 'treatment'."

"It takes time." What was this sudden change in the young man? He had become so much more abrupt; so much colder. Yoshikawa wondered if perhaps he had made some kind of mistake... or triggered something malicious. He sat for a moment in deep thought, the silence between them stretching into discomfort.

"I want a sword," said the young man suddenly. "Get me a sword."

"Why?"

"Does everything you say to me have to be a question?"

"You had a sword when we found you."

"Get it."

The doctor nodded and stood up. He was troubled, and yet intrigued, by this strange young man. Could he be witnessing a damaged psyche? A sign of some kind of terrible inner torture? Most definitely. All of the symptoms were there, and yet the doctor suspected that it was far more complicated than that. He stepped out into the hallway, just as his assistant Ryuji came striding towards him.

"There you are, doctor!" he exclaimed. "I have been looking for you! I have sent most of the other men away... they have broken bones and bruises but nothing very serious. One of them was very badly concussed - more so than the others - so he is staying in the clinic for now."

"That's good Ryuji." Doctor Yoshikawa put a calming hand on the young man's shoulder. "Tell me though... do you remember that strange sword that we found with our injured patient?"

"The reversed blade? Yes... but why?"

"Where is it? The man wants his sword."

"It's with Sasami... she took it home with her."

"What?" That little girl... she had no business carrying a sword around. Especially now that they were illegal. What would her grandfather think? "How could you let her take it home? You know that..."

"She was adamant. I tried to take it from her, but she wouldn't let go. I figured that letting her have it would do no harm. I'm sorry, Yoshikawa-sama."

The doctor shook his grey head. "No fault of yours, Ryuji. Although I suggest that you go to the farm and fetch it right away. Tell Sasami to come if she likes. Tell her that her stranger has finally woken."

"He asked for his sword... has he remembered something then? You told me he had amnesia..." Ryuji seemed a little frantic and Yoshikawa put it down to the fact that he had been busy all morning.

"Nothing specifically. However, I believe that the sword may help to trigger latent memories."

"Ah..." Ryuji paused, as if to ask a question, but then thought the better of it.

"Just get that damn sword, Ryuji!"

"Yes, sir!"


	3. A Killer's Instinct

Ryuji had been walking for almost half an hour, on his way to fetch the stranger's reverse-bladed sword. Finally he saw the small shack up on the hill; it was where Sasami and her grandfather lived. In front of the house was a small field planted with rows of cabbages and radishes. Apart from the occasional "caw caw" of the crow, the field was silent.

A cool wind blew across the clearing, ruffling Ryuji's hair and causing him to shiver. The silence was unnerving. Perhaps Sasami and her grandfather had gone somewhere. Ryuji walked over to the house and tapped gently on the door.

Silence.

He knocked again. "Hello? Is anyone there?" The door was slightly ajar. Ryuji pushed it open, although he didn't think that anyone was home. Perhaps he could just take the damn sword.

The interior was dark, so Ryuji pushed the door wider, to allow the afternoon sunlight to flood into the house.

"Oh God," he exclaimed, and froze, struggling to cope with the sight of Sasami's grandfather. The old man was dead. Ryuji stepped back awkwardly to avoid the drying pool of blood at his feet. Slowly, he forced himself to look at the body. Sasami's grandfather's throat had been cut; a brutal red slash across his withered neck. Blood had spilt down onto the old man's kimono, staining it a deep crimson.

But where was Sasami? The little girl was nowhere to be seen, and the sword was gone as well. Ryuji went cold with fear and worry. Whoever had done this... a little girl would have no way to defend against them. He tried not to think of what could have happened to Sasami.

The old man was dead. Ryuji turned and began to run towards the town.

* * *

"Maybe he's just gone to Kyoto for a few days," suggested Sano, not believing his own words. He watched with concern as Kaoru thrust her hands into the bucket angrily, swirling the clothes with a vicious fervour.

"He would've told us, Sano. You know that."

Sano did not reply; he had no response. "Yeah," he admitted finally. "You're right."

"He's left us, Sano. I knew this would happen one day. I used to see it in his eyes sometimes. Kenshin would get this strange look on his face and I know he was thinking about wandering again. That idiot! He never told us anything, really."

"Kenshin never does anything without a good reason, Jou-chan." Sano was sitting on the porch, absently unwinding and re-winding the bandage around his right hand. He flexed his hand experimentally. It was almost fully healed. "He wouldn't leave without telling ya."

"So where is he, then?! It's been two days, and he hasn't come back! We've asked everywhere... looked everywhere... No-one has seen him!" Kaoru pulled the kimono out of the bucket and began to wring it savagely.

"I dunno... but it's not like Kenshin. I know him better than that."

"No, Sano, you only think you know him."

"He wouldn't just leave."

Now it was Kaoru's turn to fall silent. She didn't believe Kenshin would just leave without a word either, but then again, he had surprised her enough times in the past. Small, insidious doubts were beginning to creep into her mind, along with a cold black feeling in the pit of her stomach. If Kenshin hadn't left, then perhaps he was in some kind of trouble... Kenshin was in danger... Kaoru froze. She had heard something...

"Yahiko," she said coldly, "I thought that I told you to do three hundred strokes. What are you doing under the porch?"

Silence. Sano narrowed his eyes, and stood up slowly. Bending over, he suddenly thrust his arm under the porch and dragged out a kicking, defiant Yahiko.

"Ow!" protested the young swordsman. "Let go of me, you lanky freak!" Yahiko kicked at Sano's shins, and the older man dropped the boy ungracefully on the ground.

"Idiot!" hissed Sano. "You shouldn't eavesdrop on people's conversations!"

"Well I wouldn't have to if you guys actually told me something once in a while! You think that just because I'm young, you have to hide everything from me! I know that you're thinking that Kenshin's left us for good, and I know also that you're wrong!"

"How do you know that?" A brief spark of hope suddenly flared up in Kaoru's heart. Perhaps Kenshin had told Yahiko something - or maybe he had found something of Kenshin's...

"I just know!" Yahiko seemed terribly sure of himself. Kaoru's face fell.

"Oh," she murmured, unable to think of anything to say.

"Yahiko's right, Jou-chan, even if he is a dirty eavesdropper." Sano re-affixed his bandages.

"Oi!"

"I suppose so," said Kaoru, although she sounded a little doubtful. For the first time in quite a while, she was beginning to feel afraid. The little man beside her shook his head in the face of her misery.

"Kenshin wouldn't just leave," repeated Yahiko with utter conviction. "I know he wouldn't."

* * *

"Ryuji! Where is the sword?" The doctor had come out when he heard the sound of footsteps. His assistant arrived at the door, panting heavily. Yoshikawa noticed that Ryuji's hands were shaking slightly, and that his face was ashen.

"Oh God," stuttered the doctor's assistant, unable to control his emotions. "It was... the old man... at the farm..."

Yoshikawa placed two firm hands on the man's shoulders and held him still. "Calm down, Ryuji," he said gently, leading the young man inside. The doctor ushered Ryuji into a room, sat him down and turned to look at him intently.

"What happened?" He asked finally. He paused, allowing Ryuji's nerves to settle. The assistant shuddered and looked up at Yoshikawa with haunted eyes. "Sasami's grandfather is dead," he uttered with a wooden voice. "I found him in the shack - his throat had been slit."

Ryuji's head dropped and the doctor breathed out heavily, struggling to keep his feelings in check. He was rattled by this news, but allowing Ryuji to know the extent of his feelings would serve no real purpose. "I see." When he spoke, his voice was steady. "And the girl?"

"I couldn't find her. I think they must've taken her."

"Perhaps."

"It's all because of that red-haired man, I know it!"

"Don't jump to conclusions Ryuji..."

"He's some kind of felon, or brigand, or something... they're after him!"

"I will appreciate it if you watch your mouth Ryuji."

"We should get rid of him as soon as..."

"Quiet!" Yoshikawa's tone was harsh as he stared the young man down. "I will have no more of that kind of talk from you, young man. You forget whose hospitality you receive."

Ryuji looked at the old doctor with angry, afraid eyes for a brief moment before dropping his gaze to the floor. He shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry, Yoshikawa-sensei. I'm just frightened, that is all."

At this, the old man lost his stern expression. Ryuji was only eighteen; no more than a boy, and he could not be expected to deal with these kinds of situations yet. Yoshikawa remembered the first time he had seen a dead man. It had been a harrowing experience which had taken him days to come to terms with.

"Never mind, Ryuji. Never mind." The doctor bent over and put his head in his hands, trying to massage away the start of an oncoming headache. Sasami's grandfather was dead... and perhaps she had also been killed. He turned away from Ryuji, so as not to let the young man see the worry and grief which clouded his features. Old Fujiwara had not been one of Yoshikawa's good friends, however he had known the man well enough to realise that he was a kindly soul who had given the remainder of his life to the care of his only surviving granddaughter. Sasami was a girl whom Yoshikawa felt deeply affectionate towards, for she reminded him of his eldest daughter....

"Doctor..." Ryuji's soft voice broke the doctor's train of thought. Slowly the old man looked up to see his patient - Shinta - standing in the doorway, looking at both of them with curious eyes. The red-haired patient had borrowed one of the doctor's old kimonos, and the garment, being far too large, hung off Shinta's small frame awkwardly. The silence between them stretched on and became awkward.

"Come in, Shinta," said Yoshikawa eventually. "Sit down."

"He remembers his name?" asked Ryuji softly.

"Shinta is not my name." The patient's reply was cold.

"It's just temporary," explained Yoshikawa. "Until he remembers a little more."

"Did you get my sword?" The question was sharp and quick, aimed at Yoshikawa, however Ryuji's eyes narrowed at the tone.

"I did not get the sword," he answered, before the doctor could reply. For the first time Shinta's eyes met Ryuji's, and the younger man held them stubbornly. "It was gone."

"Gone?"

"Along with the young girl who saved your life, and the life of her grandfather. Yes, Shinta, it was gone." Yoshikawa raised his eyes curiously. Ryuji was not usually given to sudden bouts of anger. His gaze flicked towards the patient with interest. How would he react?

"Then get me another one!" Shinta's eyes bored into Ryuji's and the assistant shrank back in horror. He had never before seen such terrifying eyes - a flat amber gaze which promised death. The air grew thick and heavy and no man in the room dared move.

Then Shinta breathed heavily and closed his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said suddenly, his voice softer. "Forgive me." He looked at Ryuji again and his now his gaze was violet. The younger man blinked in surprise, however he could not forget the deadly unspoken threat which had hung between them just a few moments ago.

"Shinta," said Yoshikawa suddenly, sensing a shift in the young patient's mood. "Tell me... why do you need a sword?"

"I..." Shinta suddenly seemed uncomfortable. He was about to affect a false smile, but there was something in the way the old doctor looked at him that told him Yoshikawa would not be fooled. Shinta sighed. The truth was not one that sat well with him, but there was no use in hiding it. "The truth is," he said finally, "that I feel... naked... without a sword."

Out of the corner of his eye, Yoshikawa saw that Ryuji still looked nervous. If the truth was to be told, he was beginning to feel a little uneasy himself. Who was this slight, red-haired stranger, who felt uneasy without a sword? Yoshikawa had only ever known one other man who had lived with the sword by his side, and that man had died a long time ago.

Both Shinta and Ryuji looked up curiously as Yoshikawa nodded, and without a word, left the room. He returned a short time later with two swords - a katana, and its smaller counterpart, the wakizashi - laid across his palms. Ryuji's eyes widened in shock, and Shinta's eyes narrowed in curiosity.

"These were my father's," said the old doctor almost reverently. "You can borrow them if you like, until we find your other sword."

Shinta nodded stood up. He walked over to the doctor and took the katana into his right hand. He slid the blade slowly out of its scabbard with a silent metallic hiss. The sword gleamed in the afternoon sunlight.

"It's a finely made blade," he commented, not knowing how he knew such things. "Thank you, Doctor Yoshikawa."

"Remember anything?" asked Yoshikawa, vainly hoping for some kind of miraculous flashback.

"Unfortunately, no."

"Ryuji," said the doctor suddenly, urgently, "get out of the way."

The assistant, did so, out of instinct, not quite knowing why. He gasped as the doctor whipped the wakizashi out of its small scabbard and flung it at his patient, almost faster than his eye could follow. To Ryuji's amazement, Shinta moved with inhuman speed, holding up the katana defensively so that it blocked the wakizashi. The flying weapon altered its course and spun upwards. It slowed and then started to fall back down, until it reached the patient, who grasped it swiftly by the hilt, and brought both swords up into a defensive position.

All of this in barely the blink of an eye. Even Yoshikawa looked surprised, but he quickly masked the expression. Despite having a wounded left shoulder, Shinta was not even breathing heavily. Yoshikawa commanded his legs to stop shaking. For a split second he could have sworn that he had seen a killer's intent in the young man's eyes. Instead, he nodded, masking his fear.

"As I suspected," he said. "Only an extremely proficient swordsman would feel naked without his blade. As I said Shinta, you are welcome to borrow those swords for as long as you need them."

"Thank you doctor..." Shinta paused, and lowered the blades. "But please... don't _ever_ do that again."

"I can assure you, that I have no desire to attack you like that again." Yoshikawa was a bit surprised at his own audacity. He had acted on a strong hunch and it had paid off.

"Good," said the patient, before he let go of the swords - and fainted.


	4. Slivers

He opened his eyes and realised there was someone else in the room. Rather than sit up, he kept his breathing even and lay still, waiting to see what the intruder would do next. He stretched out with his senses and realised that he could feel the man - he knew that it was a man - walking along the floorboards. The intruder's every footstep was a silent vibration. It was uncanny; he could sense what the man was going to do next.

He also knew that if he didn't move in that second, he was going to die.

Shinta rolled out of the way just as the intruder plunged a knife into the tatami, where he had been lying just a split second ago.

* * *

The attacker whirled in confusion. To him, it appeared that his once fast asleep prey had now disappeared into thin air. He felt a rush of wind next to his bare cheek, and then there was a sinewy arm wrapped around his neck, choking him.

"Gaargh..." The intruder made a strangled cry of surprise and flailed about wildly, waving his arms uselessly. Why was he suddenly helpless? His victim had taken a bullet to the shoulder and was supposed to have lost a lot of blood. This was supposed to have been easy.

All of a sudden he felt the arm around his neck loosen, and then it was gone. The intruder dropped to his knees and dived for the hilt of the knife, which he knew was still embedded in the tatami, but he stopped cold upon feeling the bite of steel at his neck.

"Don't," hissed a voice, and all of a sudden the man was too terrified to even try to breathe.

* * *

Shinta had found his swords. The good doctor had apparently been kind enough to place them by his bedside, upon recognising the nature of their relationship with his patient. Now Shinta gripped them in the darkness and felt comforted by their familiar weight.

"Who sent you here?" he demanded, his voice hard. The words had come instinctively, without any thought. The intruder remained silent. Shinta somehow knew to apply a little more pressure - just enough so that the blade drew a little more blood, but did not seriously injure the man.

"I asked you a question," he stated flatly. The intruder began to stutter.

"Nnno one. Just me."

"You're lying."

"No-one sent me!"

"I'll cut your eyes out." Shinta did not feel as if he had ever purposely mutilated anyone in his life, but he also knew that the threat of pain was more unbearable to some than death. Perhaps his instincts were good, as this was the last straw for the intruder. The man sighed - a sound of abject defeat.

"Either way I'm screwed, ain't I?" His voice was weak. Shinta lowered the katana. "The man you're looking for - his name is Shinzei."

"Where can I find him?"

"Red district... the goddamn red district. Just ask. Everyone knows him."

"I don't." Shinta shook his head and glared at the intruder.

The man didn't dare to breathe. He must have known that Shinta was choosing between life and death, and every single instinct he possessed was screaming at him to kill the man; to make it painless by slicing off his head in one clean stroke. It would avoid complications; it would prevent a problem from festering.

Something else however, stayed Shinta's hand. A small niggling feeling - perhaps it was guilt? - told him to relax his grip on the hilt of the sword and instead say to his attacker: "Get the hell out of here. The next time that I see your face, you're a dead man."

* * *

The intruder could not believe what this cold-eyed demon had said. He was free to go?

"I said, get the hell out of here."

As if in a dream, the man turned and padded out of the room, expecting, at any second, the swift slice of a blade through his exposed neck - although he had no way of knowing how that would possibly feel. Nothing happened. The terrifying patient remained standing and staring, until the intruder had walked out of the dark room. Just like that. He was free. As soon as the man felt that he was far enough down the hallway not to be heard, he began to run.

* * *

"Did you sleep well, Shinta?" asked Doctor Yoshikawa, as his bleary-eyed patient entered the room. "I sent Ryuji out to market this morning to buy you something decent to wear. After all, we can't have you walking around town in just that old yukata."

"Thank you, doctor," said Shinta, and sat down. Yoshikawa eyed his patient curiously. "Is something wrong?" he asked, sensing a feeling of unease about Shinta. A thought hit him. "You've remembered something, haven't you?"

"Not exactly."

"What, then?"

"It's nothing. Forget it."

"But..."

Shinta stared at the doctor with eyes that were suddenly cold and hard and amber, and despite himself, Yoshikawa felt a little afraid of the small man who sat before him.

"I do not like repeating myself," he said. "Forget it."

"Very well." However, the doctor was not one to be thwarted easily. "However, if you do remember something, you must tell me immediately. I cannot stress this enough, because, right now, I am the only one who can help you."

"You seem awfully sure of yourself, doctor."

"Just as you don't, Shinta?" The doctors words had hit their mark, for Shinta suddenly looked down, as if ashamed of himself. Doctor Yoshikawa laughed self deprecatingly and spread his hands wide upon sensing his patient's discomfort. "Please accept my humble offer of help, Shinta."

He could see his patient hesitate; he sensed a deep stubborn streak in this man. But Yoshikawa was counting on his sense of reason.

"Very well." Yoshikawa noticed that Shinta's eyes had taken on an odd hue; they were now an odd mixture of violet and amber. A sign of a split personailty disorder perhaps - or maybe just a trick of the light. In repose the patient's expression was unreadable, although the doctor imagined that he detected a hint of sadness in Shinta's features. Then, suddenly, Shinta smiled - an astonishing change - for his eyes became warm and there was no hint of the troubled soul that the doctor had seen just moments ago.

"I apologise for not being very grateful, doctor," his tone now injected with genuine gratitude. "Sessha should thank you for taking the time to help this unworty one."

"Don't humble yourself too much," chided Yoshikawa. He then frowned thoughtfully. "However, we must also learn the reason for such a curious habit. Such forced humility... It could only be the actions of one who has..."

"Habit, doctor?"

"Your odd manner of speech... no-one says 'sessha' in this day and age."

* * *

Shinta nodded. He knew that too. He also did not know why he had reverted to the archaic form of speech. It had been, strangely enough, the only way in which he could bring himself to apologise. Shinta was beginning to realise that there was a part of him that was almost frighteningly stubborn. He wondered if his obstinate side had caused him trouble in a past life. He also wondered whether this was a good or bad thing.

All of a sudden Shinta looked up, sensing footsteps in the outer hallway. Moments later, he could hear the rustling of clothes, and then a voice.

"Good morning, Shinta," said Ryuji cheerily as he suddenly entered the room. Yoshikawa moved and turned his attentions to a simmering pot - presumably their breakfast - as Ryuji sat down beside Shinta. The doctor's assistant then unfolded a brown paper package and displayed his wares.

"Yoshikawa-sama says that you want to walk around the town a little... perhaps to jog your memory. I got you something to wear."

Shinta nodded, and picked up the new dark blue gi and grey hakama. "You shouldn't have bought such finely made clothes. Used ones would have been fine... What happened to my old clothes anyway?"

"Rubbish," interrupted Yoshikawa as he looked up from his cooking. "You can't go around town looking like we just picked you off the street... even if we did. As for your old clothes, well... let's just say they were a little dirty. Neither Ryuji or I have any experience with washing out dark bloodstains after all."

"But this is too much... I cannot accept this. Please, let me do something for you in return."

The doctor smiled. "That's your pride speaking again, Shinta. Perhaps you were a samurai in a past life." The words were spoken in jest, but there was some kind of truth to them that disturbed Shinta. He knew that there were very, very few who lived by the true samurai creed anymore - if any - but the doctor's words rattled him all the same.

"But what could you possibly do?" asked Ryuji. It was an honest question - not an insult - and Shinta was intuitive enough to recognise it as such. He sighed, as he tried to think of ways in which he could help them. Apart from his newly discovered skill with swords, there was nothing.

"I cannot accept your charity," he insisted. "I will find some way to pay you back."

"I'm sure that you will." The doctor seemed sure in his agreement. Shinta did not seem like the kind of person who would go back on his word. "But let's not worry about that now. Breakfast is ready."

After breakfast, Shinta and Ryuji went out with the intention of walking about the town. It was the doctor's theory that Shinta would perhaps see something that would trigger a latent memory and help to reverse the effects of the amnesia. Yoshikawa had wanted to accompany them, however at the last minute a pregnant woman had turned up at his door with her anxious husband in tow. She had been in the late stages of labour, and Shinta had watched, wide-eyed, as the doctor had led the pale-faced, sweating woman to a bed. Yoshikawa had then rounded on Shinta, Ryuji and the woman's poor husband, urging them not to interfere. He wanted Shinta and Ryuji to leave; to go about their adventure as if nothing untoward had happened.

* * *

"It will be easier without you here," he insisted. "I can handle this by myself."

"But..."

"It's all right, Ryuji. I will not be needing your help today."

"As you say, Yoshikawa-sama..." Ryuji was reluctant to leave, but then again he was also curious as to how Shinta would react upon seeing other places... other people. He looked at the red-haired enigma, who had changed into the dark gi and grey hakama that Ryuji had purchased. Quite tasteful colours, he had thought. The clothes fit well; Ryuji had selected the smallest sizes available despite the vendor's insistence that they were boys sizes. Shinta had hung the swords at his side, wearing them naturally, with the easy grace of one who was used to such weapons. Ryuji was about to protest that wearing swords in public was illegal, but there was something in the way that Shinta held them - possesively - that made him think twice about chiding the patient. Yoshikawa seemed as oblivious as usual - not to mention preoccupied - so Ryuji figured that they would just have to run the risk of encountering any police in the streets. The doctor was on good enough terms with the local police that he would probably be able to extract them from any trouble anyway.

Shinta looked at the pregnant woman's husband sympathetically, and suddenly he whispered something into the man's ear. Ryuji did not catch what he had said, however a second later, the woman's husband smiled gratefully. With a rueful glance back at the room where from where he could now hear healthy screams of pain, Ryuji led the way out of the clinic.

It was quite a long walk to Tokyo's main street, and by the end of it, Shinta looked a little pale. Ryuji could see that small beads of sweat glistened on the patient's forhead, and his breathing was slightly heavier. For a moment, he had forgotten that only a few days ago, Shinta had been shot. It was nothing short of amazing, the way in which this man was recovering so quickly.

"Where are we now?" asked Shinta suddenly, fighting to keep his breathing even. Inwardly, Ryuji nodded to himself. The doctor had been right in saying that Shinta's pride was almost insurmountable. The man did not want to admit to any sign of weakness, even if it killed him.

"Almost at the markets..." Ryuji looked at Shinta in concern. "Are you all right?" he asked before he could stop himself. At the slight narrowing of Shinta's eyes, he immediately knew that he had said the wrong thing.

"I'm fine," replied Shinta, his tone one of annoyance. Whatever good spirits he had been in seemed to have evaporated. Ryuji looked at him a little warily, remembering Shinta's earlier threat towards him. The man could be almost irrationally short tempered at times. Ryuji did not particularly want Shinta to think ill of him. Ryuji did not consider this attitude to be cowardice. Instead, he thought himself to be rather pragmatic.

* * *

They rounded a corner and came to a street which was bustling with activity, from the small children fighting over a single coin to the vendors proudly displaying their wares and bargaining with the equally enthusiastic buyers. In the face of this miasma of colours and sounds and smells Shinta felt a little uneasy - he had this niggling feeling that there was someone watching him, however every time he looked behind, all he could see was the smiling face of the woman who walked behind them. She was holding a brightly decorated paper umbrella which was painted with a delicate pattern of sakura blossoms. As Shinta glanced back at her, she smiled and blushed coyly. Ryuji noticed the pause and looked at Shinta, his eyes curious.

"What are you thinking?" he asked suddenly, as they stopped in the middle of the road, allowing the woman to pass. As they did so, Shinta caught a breath of a delicate fragrance and gentle laughter.

* * *

Ryuji noticed the patient staring longingly after the woman and smiled.

"She's cute," he said quietly, grinning. Had something come back to Shinta? Perhaps he was remembering a woman... his lover... his wife? But his companion was apparently deep in thought, for he showed no signs of having heard Ryuji. Ahead, the woman stopped at a stall which was selling finely lacquered wooden boxes. Shinta broke out of his reverie and looked at Ryuji.

"There's something not quite right about her," he said quietly, and the sound of his voice sent a shiver up Ryuji's spine. Despite himself Ryuji shuddered, and looked at the woman again. She was chatting to the stall vendor and smiling, and Ryuji saw nothing but a young woman out for a day of shopping. Upon noticing his stare, she turned to look at Ryuji. He, in turn, took in the smoothness of her skin and the full, red lips; the straight white teeth and the glossy long black hair. She gestured for him to come closer with one slender finger, and Ryuji turned to Shinta.

"I think that you're just a little on-edge." He then made his way over to the stall, trying to look casual and relaxed, ignoring the heated glare that Shinta shot him as the red-head reluctantly followed. "Try to relax a little," he suggested. The woman looked up at Ryuji with irresistable doe-eyes, and Ryuji felt a little giddy.

"I just can't choose," she said breathily as he reached her, "between these two trinket boxes here." She giggled, and Ryuji felt himself joining in with the laughter. Shinta remained expressionless, with one hand on the hilt of his sword, which Ryuji did not fail to notice. He thought that Shinta's excessive guardedness was quite ridiculous.

"So I decided to ask the opinion of a man," continued the delicate figure before him, "since you men are always so decisive about things." She then held up two small rectangular boxes for Ryuji to see. Both were black, and lacquered to a high sheen. The one in her left hand had a delicate picture of a crane on the lid - it was painted in gold, and looked very fine, even to Ryuji's untrained eye. The one on the right was a little more subtle, with just a simple pattern of falling white plum blossoms. Compared to the crane, it was almost drab, Ryuji thought. He was about to suggest that the crane was the better choice, when Shinta reached out and grabbed the box from the lady's left hand and stared at it intently for a moment.

"Oh..." she gasped, losing her composure for a moment.

"This," said Shinta, "you should not buy. Take the other one."

"If you say so." She turned a blind eye to Shinta's strange behaviour and laughed. "Thank you. I am very indecisive when it comes to such things. She took a few yen out of a silk purse and dropped them into the stall owner's palm, before placing her slender hand onto Ryuji's shoulder.

"Actually," she said slowly, "the real reason that I called you and your friend over here is that I need to show you something."

"What is it?" asked the doctor's aide curiously. Shinta's eyes narrowed slightly. "Is something wrong?"

"It is very hard for me to describe," continued the woman, "so please, just follow me."

"If you say so." Ryuji was more curious than anything else, however he did not fail to notice the reluctance with which Shinta put down the lacquered box with the white plum blossoms on the lid. Something about those flowers perhaps...

They rounded the corner and reached a narrow alleyway, with Ryuji having to increase his pace slightly to keep up with the woman. For a girl wearing a kimono, she surely walked fast. Shinta remained behind Ryuji, as wary as ever. The doctor's aide shook his head. What could one young woman do? He might even go so far as to think that Shinta was a little paranoid...

Suddenly the woman with the paper umbrella turned and faced Ryuji. Her soft expression had changed into an emotionless mask. Ryuji gulped and Shinta stepped back a little. He had somehow known to expect this.

"Sorry darling," she said, "I didn't mean to include you in this, but you're here now, and it's too late." Ryuji blinked in confusion, the impact of her words not quite reaching him. The woman then turned to stare at Shinta, who still had one hand resting on the hilt of his katana. "You, my dear, well... I don't know who you are, but I have my orders. It's a pity, though." She raised one eyebrow archly at Shinta and then slowly closed her paper umbrella. Ryuji watched in fascination as the tall woman then twisted the handle of her umbrella. There was a quiet click, and the handle suddenly slid out smoothly. It was attached to the end of a slim, sharp blade which glittered dangerously in the morning sunlight.

"You're going to try to kill me," said Shinta slowly. It was a statement of disbelief, and Ryuji thought that he heard a note of disdain in the patient's voice.

"I'm sorry, darling," repeated the woman. He shook his head in total, utter astonishment. How could this gentle looking creature possibly be a killer? It was the sort of thing that one only read about in fanciful novels; a deadly female assassin masquerading as a harmless naive little girl. What amazed Ryuji even more was that Shinta's earlier suspicions had been absolutely correct.

"Don't apologise," snapped Shinta suddenly, angrily. "You can't kill me."

"Why ever not?"

"Because I would kill you first."

"Don't be deceived." She laughed arrogantly. "Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean that I will hesitate to cut you in two." The woman then paused. "I'm no amateur, darling. I've held a sword in my hand every day ever since I could walk. There are very few who can match me."

"I don't doubt it." Shinta' s reply was dangerouly quiet. He shifted his stance slightly, and to Ryuji it seemed that he was suddenly a coiled spring of carefully restrained energy. The woman holding the sword seemed to notice this too, for she also tensed.

"You think you are a match for me?" She smirked, however there was now a small note of wariness in her voice. She didn't know anything about this red-haired man, except that he was supposed to die.

"If you wish to gamble with your life then that is your choice." Shinta's eyes had turned a fierce amber yellow, and Ryuji glanced nervously between the two, sensing the suppressed violence that they were about to unleash.

"But you have to tell me something first," he continued, his eyes boring into the woman. She stared back, forcing herself to hold his gaze. Perhaps this little man would be more of a challenge than she first anticipated. Anyone who wore a pair of swords openly in this day and age wouldn't do so just for show.

"Why?" Shinta's voice was cold. The woman laughed.

"I'm sure that you know the answer to that," she said. "If I knew... I wouldn't be doing this kind of work. I'm just a killer. I don't ask questions."

Ryuji thought that he had perhaps detected a hint of regret in the woman's voice just now, however he could not pursue that thought, for there was suddenly a rush of wind, and she had disappeared. A heartbeat later there was a clash as her blade met Shinta's. The patient had clumsily managed to block her attack, drawing both the katana and the wakizashi just in time, however she pressed forwards, forcing him onto the back foot. She had managed to catch Shinta by surprise. He blinked, and then all of a sudden he was gone, leaving the woman reeling forwards, off balance.

"Whoa..." exclaimed Ryuji in surprise. Shinta had moved so fast that he had become a blur right in front of Ryuji's very eyes. As he reappeared, Ryuji realised that he had sheathed both of his swords.

Sheathed them? Whatever for? Having to draw his swords again would only be a hindrance for Shinta... surely. Shinta's attacker regained her footing and rushed towards him again, her slim blade moving in a deadly, fluid arc.

Shinta avoided it with ease.

"What?" she gasped, skidding to a halt. The red-haired man was now behind her, and he hadn't even drawn his sword. She moved to the left, blurred, and reappeared behind him, but he was ready for her attack, using the katana to block her sword. She reeled back, surprised and unbalanced. Calmly, slowly, Shinta sheathed his blade.

"It is harder," he said, his voice sounding strangely strained, "for me to try to not kill you. I don't know why, but for some reason, I hesitate." He paused, and all that Ryuji could hear was the sound of the woman's heavy breathing. "However, if you continue to test me like this, I might lose control."

"I don't understand," gasped the woman, and Ryuji felt oddly sympathetic towards her. "I mastered the art of the Shinzen-ryu at the age of fifteen! There is hardly a swordsman equal to me... but you evade my attacks so easily... who are you?"

"I wish that I knew."

"Oh my god."

"Stop fighting me."

"I can't." She knew of nothing else. To her, Ryuji realised, the concept of faliure was a foreign one. There was murder in her eyes as she accelerated towards Shinta, holding the sword straight in front of her. She became nothing more than a rush of air but Shinta moved out of her way equally as quickly. She whirled to face him.

"What is there for me," she panted in despair, "if I can't kill you?"

"Perhaps you should give yourself the chance to answer that question." Shinta was implacable. Ryuji could not tell what colour his eyes were. The woman faltered.

"Nothing..." her voice cracked a little. "You say that something is stopping you from killing me. I will break whatever holds you back."

"No."

"What?!"

"I won't allow you to." The doctor had been right, Shinta was incredibly stubborn.

"I will force you to."

"If you are capable of that, then you will come very close to killing me." Briefly, Shinta closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were a piercing violet, however none of the tension had drained from his body. "Tell me where I can find your employer, and I will reverse all of this."

The woman was shocked. "Don't you understand?!" she wailed. "Do you have no sense of honour? I cannot betray that person, as much as I would wish to. I would rather die."

* * *

Strangely enough, Shinta felt that he did understand, and much to his surprise, he even felt sympathetic towards the woman who trembled before him. To his right, he was aware of Ryuji who was staring at them as if they had both sprouted a third ear. There was something about this sad woman that struck a chord with Shinta, although he did not know why. She seemed so alone. He would no longer draw his sword against her, he decided.

Slowly, surely, he turned his back on her.

* * *

"Shinta..." whispered Ryuji, worried. One did not turn his back on an attacker as fast as her...

"She has to choose for herself," said Shinta, his voice hard. Ryuji met his eyes, and once again they were unblinking and golden; almost catlike. "Oh my god." Then Ryuji froze, for in the split second that it took him to gasp, the woman had grabbed her sword tightly by the hilt and thrust it into her stomach. She doubled over, coughing as the blood reached her mouth and streamed down her chin... down her throat and chest. Shinta did not turn around, just kept walking. Ryuji was frozen in shock.

"You..." He did not know whether he was referring to the woman, or to Shinta. Both had just done something extraordinarily brutal, and Ryuji's eyes bulged as the woman gasped and toppled over. Her hands were bloody, and she no longer moved.

Shinta did not turn around.

"How could you let her do that?" shouted Ryuji. He forced himself to run, to catch up with Shinta. The red-haired swordsman hadn't even flinched when the woman had died. Ryuji could not believe how cold blooded this man was. "She's dead! You let her die!"

"I didn't let her do anything. She made her own decision." Shinta didn't bother to look as Ryuji as he spoke.

"But you could have saved her. It was in your power to do at least that much!" Ryuji was walking faster and faster, in order to keep up with the patient.

"Saved her for what... to destroy her? She never would have forgiven me."

"What the hell are you talking about?! You would have saved her life!"

Shinta stopped, having reached the mouth of the alleyway. He turned to face the doctor's assistant.

"Listen," he hissed. "Don't lecture me. You do not understand. The woman was a killer. She lived by a different set of rules than you do. People like her... they perceive life and death differently than you do. What I allowed her to do was the best for her."

Ryuji looked away from Shinta's burning eyes. He could not quite fathom a life so... awful. "People like her... how would you know about that?" he demanded furiously.

Shinta looked down, and then glanced briefly in Ryuji's direction. "Because I am one," he replied, before walking towards the busy main street. Suddenly Shinta put a hand to his shoulder and grunted slightly, in pain. When he brought his hand away Ryuji saw that it was covered in blood.

"The sutures have ruptured!" he exclaimed. The fight must have taken a greater toll on Shinta than he had earlier thought.

All of a sudden the sound of a woman's voice broke through Ryuji's thoughts.

"Kenshin, Kenshin!" Ryuji turned to see an ebony haired woman running towards... Shinta? Strangely enough, she was dressed in a gi and hakama. In her right hand was a bokken, and a fine sheen of sweat covered her face. She reached Shinta and looked up at the patient, an expression of shock upon her face.

"Kenshin! Where have you been? We were so worried..." Suddenly, she gasped. "You're bleeding!" she exclaimed in shock. She took Shinta/Kenshin by the arm and began to drag him away from Ryuji. "I'm taking you straight to Megumi to get this thing fixed... oh!" She stopped abruptly as the patient gently removed her hand from his arm.

"Excuse me," he said politely, his tone impersonal and cold. "Do I know you?"


	5. An Odd Thought

Kaoru stopped, and stared. Her heart became cold with dread as she took a slight step backwards. Was this really Kenshin? He didn't sound like the man that she knew. Slowly she looked up and met his eyes. There was not a single glimmer of recognition there, and it chilled Kaoru to the bone.

"Kenshin?" she repeated meekly, wondering if she was dreaming. If she was, it was a horrible, terrible dream.

"Who's Kenshin?" asked the red-haired stranger, eyeing the young girl curiously. She appeared to know him. Perhaps she did. Perhaps she was a part of his past. "Me?"

"Of course it's you!" Kaoru was near tears. "Don't you remember? You're Kenshin! I'm Kaoru! You know me!"

Shinta... Kenshin... briefly thought of making up some answer to appease this poor girl; he thought of pretending to be this 'Kenshin' that she spoke about, but he knew that he couldn't pretend to be someone that he was not.

"His name is Kenshin?" asked Ryuji suddenly. To him it seemed right for some reason. It would make sense that this fierce swordsman would be called 'Kenshin' rather than 'Shinta'.

"I don't know," cried Kaoru, distraught. "He's not the man I used to know!" She was afraid of the look in Kenshin's eyes; the look of utter blankness whenever she said his name. "Who are you?" she asked him, imploring him to remember. Surely this was some twisted nightmare.

"I... don't know." Kenshin floundered for a moment, helpless against her large appealing blue eyes, until he grabbed a hold of himself and forced his mind to become cold and clear. Kaoru gasped as she saw his eyes shift from muddy purple to clear golden in the space of a heartbeat.

"What?" she whispered, growing still and cold. "What happened... to you?"

"I have no memory of my past," said Battousai flatly. Kaoru gasped.

"I don't believe this," she spluttered, dazed. "Kenshin!" She grabbed him by the front of his gi and shook him slightly. Normally, there would have been a confused look on his face; a little 'oro' or a sheepish grin, but this time Kenshin simply stared at her, his face expressionless.

"He has amnesia," said Ryuji gently, placing one hand on the girl's shoulder. "Perhaps you knew him before, but he cannot remember anything now." Suddenly, he looked at the girl curiously. "You say that you know him. Perhaps you could help us to cure him."

"...cure?" Kaoru could not cope with the idea of Kenshin being sick. How could this have happened? She tried not to cringe as she realised that Kenshin was staring at her with cold, dispassionate amber eyes. Under that stare she felt like an insect about to be dissected. It was too much for Kaoru to bear.

"Stop it!" she cried angrily. "You're Kenshin! Himura Kenshin! You live with me, Kaoru, and Yahiko! You have a saka..." Kaoru stopped cold, as her eyes flicked down to the twin hilts at his waist. She recognised a katana and its shorter counterpart, the wakizashi.

"Kenshin," she said quietly, chilled to the bone, "where is your sakabatou?"

"A reverse blade sword? What use would I have for that?"

"But you don't use a normal sword!" For a moment, Kaoru lost her wits and tried foolishly to take Kenshin's swords away from him. She was so disturbed by his appearance that she failed to consider Kenshin's lightning quick reflexes. As a result she felt a moment of pain as her wrist was seized in a vicelike grip. Kenshin drew her towards him and stared into her eyes murderously.

"Never do that," he said quietly. "You must be a fool to try and grab a man's swords like that." Kaoru cried out in pain and Ryuji gathered up enough courage to step between the two, freeing her from Kenshin's grip.

"Stop it Shinta... or Kenshin... or whoever you are!" The words came out in a nervous rush. "Can't you see that she's nothing more than a girl? She poses no threat to you!"

Kenshin looked at the trembling girl, who was biting her lower lip in an attempt not to cry. At that moment she looked very, very young, and Kenshin felt a sudden rush of shame. He swallowed his anger.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, forcing himself to look at her. Kaoru's eyes rose to meet his. "I'm sorry Kaoru-dono," he said, and she gasped.

"You... you said..."

"What?"

"You called me Kaoru-dono! Do you remember anything at all? Kenshin!"

Kenshin closed his eyes and shook his head. When he opened them again, they were a calm, clear violet. Kaoru's hopes flared, but then he dashed them with a small, sad shake of his head.

"I don't know why I called you that," he replied quietly. "It just seemed natural to do so." He then bowed his head. "Please forgive me for hurting you."

"Strange..." murmured Ryuji, staring at the couple. The girl seemed to have a calming effect on Kenshin's harsh temper, even if she did not realise it herself. Right now the swordman was looking at the ground meekly - almost in submission - and asking humbly for her forgiveness. He would really need to bring her back to the clinic. The doctor would be very interested in her relationship with his patient, thought Ryuji.

"We should go," he said suddenly, quietly, as he noticed that passers by were staring at them. "You two are causing a scene. Besides... you're still bleeding Kenshin."

Kenshin lifted his head to glare at the onlookers, who bowed their heads and scurried off, not wanting to meet his eyes. Kaoru looked at him with moist eyes and took his hand gently in hers.

"Of course I forgive you," she said. "How can I blame you when you don't know what you've done wrong?"

Kenshin bowed his head and wouldn't speak. His mind was awash with thoughts of a woman, and the past, which seemed to be shrouded in a thick mist. Often, he would catch a drift of wind which threatened to blow away the mist, or he would almost catch some random bubble of thought, but then his memories would cloud over again, and he would be lost.

"Please come with us Kaoru," said Ryuji quietly. "Kenshin needs you."

"I know," she replied.  


* * *

  
As they reached the clinic, Kaoru noticed that Kenshin was deep in thought. He looked troubled, she realised, but then again, anyone who had lost his memory would be more than a little disturbed. She looked around curiously. The clinic was no more than a small building surrounded by a slightly overgrown garden. She caught on the breeze a faint hint of the smell of cooking food, and was reminded that she hadn't eaten lunch. An old man came to the door and stared at her, before breaking into a grin.

"Ah welcome," he said cheerfully, but then he was looking at Kenshin with a serious face. All of a sudden he turned to Kaoru again and smiled. "Please come inside," he said.

"We met her in the street," Ryuji informed him as they entered the clinic. "She claims to know Kenshin, but he doesn't remember her. I was thinking that maybe she could help him..."

"Yes, I think that she can... but... Kenshin, you say?"

"His name is Kenshin," said Kaoru loudly, with such conviction in her voice that the three men stared at her. "Himura Kenshin."

"Kenshin then," agreed the doctor with not a trace of doubt in his voice. "Kenshin it is."

"Kenshin..." The patient tested the sound of his name on his own tongue. It felt right.

"Remember anything, Kenshin?" asked Yoshikawa quietly, his eyes searching the patient's face. It was expressionless, giving nothing away. Yoshikawa was a little surprised that Kenshin had such good control over his emotions. A man whose thoughts were different to his actions was a dangerous one, he mused. Suddenly Kenshin's eyes drifted towards Kaoru, but still his expression did not change. The doctor sensed that behind that blank expression, a flurry of thought was taking place. His patient was going to be a hard egg to crack.

"We were attacked," blurted Ryuji suddenly, unable to help himself. "Someone tried to kill Kenshin!"

"What?!" For the first time Yoshikawa noticed the dark stain on Kenshin's gi. It was blood.

"His stitches have ruptured," said Ryuji, seeing the direction of the man's gaze. "He fought her off."

"Her?" Kaoru was in a daze. Kenshin fought an attacker... did that mean that... "Who?"

"I don't know," replied the doctor's assistant. "But she's dead now."

"No!" cried Kaoru. "You mean... Kenshin... he..."

"He didn't exactly kill her, if that's what you mean." Ryuji was now trembling slightly. "She... she committed seppuku."

"Oh my." Kaoru placed a hand over her mouth, and the doctor looked a little pale. All of a sudden she turned to stare at Kenshin. "And you let her do this?" she asked with dread. "You let her kill herself?"

"She died an honorable death." Kenshin's reply was cold. "Stopping her would have been wrong."

"No!" It was almost a shout. "The Kenshin that I know wouldn't be so indifferent! If you knew anything you would have protected her, not let her die!"

"She tried to kill me."

"She probably didn't have a choice!"

"You wouldn't understand," said Kenshin with a hint of sadness in his voice. He looked at Kaoru  
with amber-flecked eyes, and she gulped. Still however, she held her ground.

"No it's you who doesn't understand! You wouldn't have done that before!"

"It was her will." Kenshin seemed astonished at this girl's vibrant spirit. "Please stop dictating to me," he added quietly, almost as an afterthought.

"Dictating?!"

"If I am who you say I am, then I wouldn't want my personality to be dictated to me."

"But..."

"He's right, Kaoru," interrupted the doctor finally, after being momentarily transfixed by this exchange. "You have to let the patient develop his own memories and thoughts. You cannot tell him to possess traits that he may not have, or may not believe in..."

"But..."

"I understand that you may have known Kenshin, but right now he is very confused. He may have displayed parts of his personality which have been manifest a very long time ago, or..."

"I know!" The doctor was taken aback by the girl's sudden reply. "That's exactly what he's done!"

"I see..."

"You don't understand! He's dangerous like this!"

"He's just got amnesia... it's normal that..."

"Kenshin is not normal!"

Kenshin looked at Kaoru as if she had just stabbed him in the chest. His eyes were startlingly violet, almost to the point of being blue, and it broke Kaoru's heart to see him like this.

"I... I'm sorry," she said, and took his hand. The doctor looked at Kaoru with an unfathomable expression on his face. Kenshin did not say a word. In fact, that was because he couldn't. The girl standing beside him was looking at him with large round eyes and all he could do was stare back at her, because at that moment, she looked incredibly beautiful.

Kaoru must have noticed the strange look in Kenshin's eyes, for she suddenly blinked and let go of his hand. "...Kenshin?" she whispered, feeling strange.

"It's all right, Kaoru-dono," he said suddenly, wanting to comfort this girl for some reason. Instincts within him had been stirred, and he was feeling something terribly familiar.

Both the doctor and Ryuji were silent, looking at Kenshin. He suddenly became aware of their scrutiny, and once again his expression froze. Kaoru shuddered as Kenshin's eyes grew cold.

"Kaoru," he said all of a sudden, dropping the honorific. "I must ask a question of you now."

Kaoru nodded nervously, as she stared into Kenshin's strange piercing eyes. They were wavering once more, between amber and violet and Kaoru realized that her heart was thumping heavily in her chest. Kenshin's gaze did not waver as he took her hands into his; an odd gesture, coming from him.

"Kaoru, who am I?" he asked, as he held her eyes with his own. "Please, tell me that."

Kaoru gulped, and hesitated, shocked by the directness of the question.

"You, Kenshin…" She paused and swallowed, unsure of what to say. Who was she to give Kenshin his identity, when she wasn't quite sure of that herself?

_You are Himura Kenshin, a peaceful rurouni, a kind-hearted wanderer._

_Himura__ Kenshin, who helped to bring forth the Meiji era…_

_Himura__ Kenshin, hitokiri, with the blood of hundreds of men on your hands…_

_Kenshin__, my…_

"I… uh…" Kaoru hesitated, "I can't tell you that." She looked away suddenly, unable to hold Kenshin's gaze. "I'm sorry."

For a moment, there was a cold, uncomfortable silence, until Kenshin looked away, and nodded his head in understanding. "It's all right," he said finally. "I suppose that I will have to find out for myself…"

Kaoru wanted to put her arms around him then, for he seemed so lost, so alone. Yoshikawa and Ryuji looked at Kenshin nervously, and then the former shook his head.  
"Why don't we have lunch?" asked the doctor all of a sudden, deciding that enough was enough. The tension; it couldn't be good for any of them.  
"Good idea," agreed Ryuji nervously.

Kaoru simply looked at Kenshin with worried eyes, noticing the bleak expression upon his face.

* * *

"Who is he?" asked the doctor much later, after Kenshin had left to practise his sword techniques in the yard, much to Kaoru's disapproval. She sat across from Yoshikawa, while he sipped tea from a fine cup. The doctor was a great advocate of the ancient art of drinking tea. He thought that it provided a chance for calmness and thought in this chaotic life. Kaoru had never been proficient at the tea ceremony, so she simply declined politely, several times in fact. Eventually the doctor decided to get down to business. He could tell that even without the amnesia, Kenshin would be a very difficult patient to deal with. So far the swordsman had shown all the signs of being someone extraordinary, although whether that was a good or a bad thing, Yoshikawa was yet to decide.

"Kenshin is..." Kaoru hesitated, unable to determine whether or not to trust this man. For some reason she felt uneasy about revealing Kenshin's true history just yet. She felt that this was something that Kenshin should discover for himself...

Or perhaps she was just afraid. She didn't like to admit this to herself, but perhaps she was scared of what Kenshin had been.

What if he never fully recovered?

Maybe some things were better off left dead and buried.

"Kenshin is a very complicated person," she said finally. Kaoru wasn't sure that she was the best person to be explaining things, but really, aside from Sano and Yahiko, no-one knew Kenshin quite as well as she did.

"I've gathered that much," said the doctor, gently urging her to continue. "But why?"

"He's been through so much. He's only twenty-nine, but already he's lived his life several times over."

"Twenty-nine?" Yoshikawa could have sworn that Kenshin looked younger.

"And he might have been a little... violent lately, but really, Kenshin's not a violent person. He's a good person... he was a good person." Kaoru corrected herself a little. What Kenshin had done - allowed a woman to kill herself - she couldn't understand the reasoning behind that.

The doctor agreed with Kaoru. "I believe you," he said softly. Kenshin didn't seem like a bad person, and he had not been given to acts of pettiness or selfishness.

His proficiency with the martial arts however, and the innate violence that he displayed… it seemed to be a clear contradiction of the man's nature.  
All of a sudden Kaoru jumped as she heard the sound of heavy footsteps pounding the floorboards. Someone was running towards them. Moments later the shoji slid open with a crack and Ryuji was there, looking anguished.

"I can't find him," he panted, his eyes wide. "I don't know where he's gone!"


	6. A Search for Answers

It was late afternoon, and the shadows now darkened the streets with their long presence. Kenshin unconsciously kept to them, being careful not to venture into the bright sunlight where he would be easily seen.

Seen? What fear had he of being spotted? Well... other than the fact that someone had tried to kill him just this morning. The instinct to remain hidden; it came to him naturally, and that disturbed Kenshin a little. Too many things which might seem difficult and unthinkable to any ordinary person were coming to him just a little too easy.

_Why?_ Kenshin wondered as he rounded a corner. _Who... or _what_ was I?_

His fingers brushed the hilt of the katana momentarily. It was a killing weapon; a blade which he wielded with far too much natural ease.

_Something is not right_.

His shoulder was still painful, and he thanked the stroke of luck which had favoured his left side, as this was not his sword arm. Still, he felt a little more breathless; a little weaker than he would have liked to be.

_Fool. Don't think about it. _He gritted his teeth and forced the pain to another part of his mind. _You have to get to the root of this... before anyone else is hurt._

Before anyone else is hurt?

Since when did he care? He had no memories; no attatchments to anyone. So why did he feel the need to protect?

_Kaoru_...

The girl he had met this morning... for some reason, images of her kept invading his thoughts. Familiar she was, but it frustrated him that he couldn't put his finger on exactly _where_ he knew her from. He sensed however, that there was a bit of a history between them.

What _exactly_ was his relationship with her? Friend/lover/husband/teacher/brother? He didn't know. Desperately he tried to remember, but in the end he simply didn't know. All he knew was that he couldn't bear to see her hurt. At the thought of her being harmed, a strange, fierce protectiveness seemed to well up in him.

__

Why?

Right now, the why of it didn't really matter. Kenshin had a reason, and that was good enough. He didn't know who he was, or what he had done, but he felt sure that he needed to put an end to this.

__

No time to worry now.

Indeed it wasn't, for he realised that as he had been walking, his surroundings had gradually been turning shabbier; the houses, rather than looking sturdy and well looked after, had started to appear poorly made and badly maintained; the road became rougher under his feet, and every now and again he would catch sight of rubbish littering the side of the street.

Kenshin realised that he was entering one of the seedier parts of Tokyo; he still didn't know exactly where he was going, but he knew what he was looking for.

It was still a little early for that type of thing, but the sun was beginning to set, and Kenshin knew somehow that there would soon be life in the streets; shady characters lurking in corners, prostitutes, gamblers, drinkers. These places were not new to him, he knew, however the why of it was still a mystery.

_I'm not an alcoholic... or a gambler... I don't 'see' those kinds of women..._ Those types of things disgusted him, but he knew that men were attracted to him like moths to the flame. These men were the ones that he needed to see, for he felt that they could lead him to whoever wanted him dead.

_Shinzei?_ The name echoed in the back of his mind, causing him a moment of disquiet. Who was this Shinzei? His first attacker... the intruder in his room had mentioned the name, however the woman; the assassin who had confronted him in the alleyway had refused to betray her employer.

Had this Shinzei person employed both killers? It seemed unlikely, considering that Kenshin had been attacked twice in a very short period of time. Normally, if the first assassin failed, it took some time to organize the next killing; one would need to know places, and times, and details, and a good hitokiri was usually hard to find.

_A good... hitokiri? _Again, he wondered how he knew such things. Did he really want to know? Kenshin was surprised to feel a little sense of trepidation at the thought of unravelling his past.

_Did he _want _to know_?!

Kenshin shook his head and rounded a corner, entering a narrow, dark alleyway. To the side was a small doorway, but Kenshin hadn't been drawn by the sight of the plain dark entrance with dirty steps. Rather, he had been able to sense that there were a good number of people behind that doorway.

In his experience, _what experience? _he knew that he had found the locals of any area to be very knowledgeable about who was who, and what was where, either through gossip or personal experience. Kenshin leaned against a wall in the shadows, and made himself as comfortable as he could. He was acting on pure instinct right now, but he felt that sooner or later, someone would come out of that door with the information that he needed. All he had to do was sit and wait.

* * *

"Now you sit down, little girl, and stay still." The tall skinny woman was looking at her with hard, appraising eyes. Sasami thought that she looked like a large, mean crow, the way that she was staring at her. Angrily, she glared back at the woman, blinking back the tears.

"Where's my grandpa?!" she demanded. She hadn't seen the old man for a few days; not since they had taken her from the house and brought her to this place… this dark, smelly old house in the city. Sasami remembered the day that the men had come to their small hut on the farm; they had grabbed her and taken her outside, and no amount of kicking or screaming had stopped them. Sasami realised that she had even bitten one of them on the hand, and in return he had slapped her on the underside of the head, causing her to black out.

When she had come to, she found herself locked in a small dark room and for a few days she was given only a small bowl of hardened rice and a jug of stale water by a fat man who smelled of onions. He had never talked to her; just put the dishes on the floor and left.

Then one day she had heard voices outside, and this ugly woman had grabbed her wrist tightly and dragged her away. Sasami recalled having to walk very far, very fast, until they reached a large house in a part of Tokyo that she had never been to.

_But… why?_

She didn't understand what these people wanted with her, or her grandpa. They had simply barged in there violently, brutally, and taken her away.

__

What do they want… with me?

Sasami was very alone, and very afraid, but she didn't want the crow-faced woman to know that, so she gulped bravely and held back the tears.

"What do you want with me?!" she demanded again, and something in her voice must have caused the woman to look twice, for she suddenly bent down and stared Sasami in the eye.

"I'm sorry girl," she said, not unkindly, however her eyes remained hard. "Your grandfather is dead."

"Hhuh?" Suddenly Sasami lost all of her composure and blinked. Her dark eyes grew large and wet. "But… he can't…"  
The crow-faced woman watched Sasami but did nothing, the stoniness of her face confirming the truth in her words. The girl, having no-one to turn to, curled up into a ball, hugging her knees to her chest.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "Not grandpappy…" Her lower lip trembled, and she felt as if she was going to cry. The crow-faced woman shook her head and snapped at her.

"It's happened," she said coldly. "There's no use in you crying about it now."  
"But… but…"

"Listen to me, girl." All of a sudden, the skinny woman unclasped Sasami's hands with her vicelike grip and forced the girl to stare into her steely grey eyes. "There is nothing left there for you now. Your grandfather is dead, and you are alone. How do you expect to survive like this? If you want to live, you must do as I tell you. I work for a man who can provide you with an income; with a place to live, if only you learn to stop whining and listen to me."

This was all happening too fast for a ten year old girl. Sasami shook her head in denial.

"What… what are you talking about?"

"You have to work for us, little girl, if you want to survive…"

__

Work for us.

"Work?" Often, Sasami had helped her grandfather with planting seeds, or with preparing the food, but that was normal to her. The thought of working for someone else… someone who had stolen her away from her home… she couldn't… she _wouldn't_.

"I don't want to," she blurted suddenly, wrenching her hands away with surprising force. "I don't want to work for you or your stupid boss. Just leave me alone and go away!"

"Stupid girl!" The woman rose and slapped Sasami on the cheek with her large, bony hand. "Don't you understand?! There is _nothing_ left for you! This is your only choice!"  
"Shut up!" screamed Sasami, hurting and angry. She put a hand to her cheek, which was now red. Tears were streaming from her eyes. "Just leave me alone! I won't work for you! I _won't_!!"

The crow-faced woman rose, and shook her head. "I will leave you for a while to think about this." She stared at Sasami with granite eyes and then turned towards the door. "When I come back you had better have changed your mind, child." Then she left, shutting the door with a slam. It wasn't a sliding door, but one of those western style doors which swung open and shut. Sasami heard the sound of a key turning in a lock and then the crow-faced woman's footsteps echoed away from her.

For a while, all that Sasami could do was curl up into a ball and choke back the sobs which threatened to break loose.

* * *

Kenshin had been waiting for an hour, but that didn't bother him at all. Despite the slight sense of unease that he felt about leaving the girl Kaoru unprotected, he knew that the time was not wasted. Somewhere along the way, he had learnt that patience often delivered results more quickly than impatience. Waiting was all that he could do, for he couldn't possibly enter the house – he suspected that it was a gambling den – of his own free will. He would be immediately spotted as an intruder; a man with no contacts or associations, and he would be suspected, perhaps even confronted.

He didn't want to announce his presence to anyone just yet, especially when he didn't know how far-reaching the impacts of that announcement would be. No, for the time being, it would be better just to wait, and observe. Whatever it was that he was waiting for, it would come… with time… and he suspected that his wait was just about over. The reason for this was at that moment, Kenshin could sense the wavering energy of a person who has just lost something large and significant. In this case, he suspected that it was a copious amount of money.He almost felt sorry for the man who walked out of the door as he cast his eyes over him. The poor fellow was staring at his hands in shock, muttering to himself. His face was as white as a sheet.

"How… how did I lose…?"

"Bad luck, sir?" The man gasped in shock as Kenshin suddenly materialised from the shadows. Kenshin was unaware of it, but he was projecting a sense of menace which caused the gambler to shrink back slightly.

"Wha.. what do you want?" he spread his hands wide and glanced at Kenshin nervously. "If.. if it's cash, then I ain't got any. They took all of mine." He gestured towards the doorway, confirming Kenshin's earlier suspicions that it was indeed a place where men came to wager for money.

"I don't want your money," said Kenshin humourlessly, "or lack of it…" He moved closer to the man, his expression serious. "I just want to ask you where I can find a certain person."

"P…person?"

"A man called Shinzei." Kenshin dropped the name with stone-cold finality, as if he was sure that the man knew what he was talking about. The gambler's eyes darted from side to side nervously before the man was even aware that they had done so.

"I… I don't know anyone who goes by that name," he stammered, refusing to look Kenshin in the eye. Kenshin saw through the lie immediately and narrowed his eyes. He had been very patient, but right now he did not feel like being tolerant. That would simply be a true waste of time.

"You don't lie very well," he stated flatly. "I will ask you again. Where can I find Shinzei?"

The man was about to deny any association with the man, but looking at Kenshin, he gulped, and shut his mouth again. The red-haired figure standing before him was a good foot shorter than the gambler, and he was simply standing before him, unmoving; he hadn't even drawn a weapon, and yet he still managed to seem threatening.

_Weapon_…

The man froze as he realised that there were two swords sheathed at Kenshin's side.

_Swords_… In this day and age, to see a man wearing them was rare, especially as they had been outlawed. To have a pair of swords at his side… this man must have good reason indeed. In a sudden flash of insight, the gambler realised his folly in ever trying to lie to this stranger.

"If you walk two blocks down and turn to the left, you will find his hideout," he admitted. "You won't miss it; it's a large building that used to be a dojo."

Kenshin paused for a moment to regard the man. There. He had his answer. What now? He was unsure of what to do next. For a moment, he stared at the gambler, until the man backed away and held up his hands.  
"P.. please don't kill me!" he stuttered, with real fear in his heart. Kenshin's eyes widened slightly. Kill the man?

Disturbingly, there was a small, insistent voice in the back of his mind which was screaming at him to do exactly that.

__

Kill him. Leave no witnesses.

No. Kenshin saw no reason to kill him. Quite simply, he did not want to.

"I'm not going to kill you," he reassured, his eyes softening for a moment. The man looked at him in disbelief, and then nodded slowly, and then faster. "Does that mean… uh… can I go?"

"Yes." Kenshin nodded once, and the gambler turned and shuffled away from Kenshin as fast as he could, unable to believe his luck. When he reached the mouth of the alleyway, he turned and ran. Kenshin followed him out of the alley at a more sedate pace, until he reached the street, where he turned left as the man had instructed him to do.

After a few minutes of walking, he came to a large building which might have been a dojo, if not for the fact that there was no sign on the gate pronouncing its name. The sun was beginning to set, casting a red sheen over the street, and Kenshin moved over to a wall, so that its shadow hid him. Extending his senses, he realised that the compound was full of people; he wondered how he should approach this place.

__

Should I… wait? Ask for help? Get the… police?

Somehow the thought of asking the authorities for assistance seemed very wrong to him; he had from somewhere gotten the notion that they were perhaps too incompetent for this particular task.

_So what makes me think that _I_ can do it then?_

He knew; he simply knew. He had been in worse situations before; of that he was sure. He would enter silently, and pick off the men quietly, unexpectedly, one by one, until he reached this Shinzei.

__

Then… what?

Kill him? The man was a threat to Kenshin; to Kaoru… to the doctor and his clinic.

Kill him?

No. First Kenshin would talk to him; demand answers. It would be difficult, hiding his present state of amnesia, but Kenshin was sure that he could do it – if only because he _had_ to do it.

__

Why? What reason is there for…

No. Don't travel that path. If he did, he would be emotionless, groundless, fearless… lifeless. No strings attached? No. He wanted the strings back so badly. In fact, he knew that the girl Kaoru had already re-attached a few.

__

Don't think about this now.

He nodded to himself and vaulted up over the high stone wall that surrounded the compound. Silently he landed, taking every effort to conceal his presence. It was easy for him; as natural as breathing. Kenshin's head whipped around at the sound of gravel being struck by a foot, however the owner of that foot was still a good distance away.

Kenshin peered to his left and saw two men coming his way. They seemed to be arguing with one another, and both of them carried swords. Just from the way that they walked however, Kenshin could tell that they weren't going to be a problem. Stronger fighters would have had an aura about them that Kenshin would have detected straight away. These men were no better than street brawlers at best. Kenshin remained in the shadows, undetected, as the two men came to a halt not far from him.

"You still owe me, Tetsuo," said the taller of the two, frowning. "That night, I lent you the money, remember? I've been asking you for ages."

"It's coming, it's coming." The shorter man was balding and overweight. "I got a job comin' up which will pay good. Just wait a couplea days and I'll settle ya…"

"It's been 'a couplea days' for two months now, you slimy bastard!"

"Wait, just a few more days and…"

"Hey, did you hear something?" The two men whirled around as Kenshin suddenly became visible to them. The shock of realising that another person has been observing you for quite some time is an unnerving one, and the two men had turned a little pale.

"Who the… who the hell are you?!" demanded the taller one, being the first to regain some of his wits. "I ain't seen you around before…"

"You probably haven't," agreed Kenshin mildly, however his eyes were steely. "Perhaps you could tell me where I would find Shinzei?"

"Th… the boss?" The man named Tetsuo blinked in confusion. "Boss ain't seeing anyone now. He's y'know… with a woman…"

"Take me to him." Kenshin didn't want to waste any more time. For a moment, the two gangsters didn't move; they were frozen in shock, mesmerised by the sight of the strange red-haired man's eyes, which wavered between violet and amber. Then, all of a sudden, their hands were on the hilts of their swords as they realised the threat that was in Kenshin's voice.

The taller man Kenshin recognised as the more dangerous of the two, for there was a glimmer of intelligence in his eyes. "We'll take you to him," he agreed, drawing his katana. "But on _our _terms, not yours." He took a step forwards, aiming to point his blade at Kenshin's throat, however before he could blink, there was a blur of red, and then their positions were reversed.

"I want to see Shinzei." Kenshin had all of a sudden appeared behind the tall man, drawn his sword, and placed its edge against the gangster's exposed throat. "Drop your sword." The man complied, after a split second of hesitation. Kenshin applied a little pressure. "Where is he? I don't want to have to ask you again."

"Aargh!" Behind Kenshin, Tetsuo had suddenly drawn his blade and ran towards him, with the intent to attack. Thinking that he would catch Kenshin unawares, he tried to thrust his sword into Kenshin's back, but Kenshin simply released the taller man, ducked, and angled his sword so that it cut through the calf muscle of Tetsuo's leg. Tetsuo screamed, and fell to the ground. The tall man tried to take advantage of the situation and reach for his blade, but quicker than he could breathe, Kenshin had grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head back. Once again, he felt cold steel against his skin.

"Oh my _GOD!_" screamed Tetsuo in pain. He was lying on the ground, curled into a ball, and clutching at his bleeding leg. A red pool was beginning to form on the ground. "You _cut _me!" he screamed in disbelief. "You _cut me_! I could have been killed!"

"Rest assured that I could have done that just as easily," said Kenshin coldly, realising that the man's screams would attract attention. "Although if you don't get that seen to soon, you _will_ bleed to death." Briefly, he wondered why he hadn't killed the man, but he dismissed the thought as soon as it came. There were other, more important matters to deal with right now.

Such as his hostage, whose eyes were darting around, searching for some kind of opening. Kenshin gave him none. "You will take me to him now," he commanded, and the tall man, realising that he had been defeated, nodded glumly. He began to walk, with Kenshin still holding the blade to his neck. Kenshin did not bother to talk to the man anymore, for his intentions were clear. Instead, he grimaced in the darkness. In exerting himself, he had strained the wound in his shoulder, and now it throbbed; a dull ache which caused Kenshin to grit his teeth.

_Endure it. You _have_ to do this._

_

* * *

_

They left Tetsuo almost helpless on the ground, with nothing but a splatter of blood surrounding him. The short man stared after Kenshin in disbelief for a few moments, before remembering the swordsman's words.

__

You will bleed to death.

Then, awkwardly, frantically, he began to drag himself across the gravel, wondering why he was still alive.

* * *

The sun had set rather abruptly, and now they were only left with remnants of the day; a slight redness, but more than enough for Kenshin to see clearly by. He realised that the tall man was leading him straight into the heart of the dojo, where there seemed to be some kind of large house. Kenshin was a little surprised to see that the building was surrounded by tasteful ornamental shrubbery. They crossed a koi pond over a small bridge and came to the darkened balcony of the house.

"I… in there," choked Kenshin's hostage, pointing with one shaking finger. Kenshin glanced up to see the warm glow of light shining through screened windows. He nodded, and gave a slight push, indicating that the man was to keep walking.

"Don't make a single sound," he breathed, emphasising his point by applying a little more pressure to the gangster's neck. Kenshin felt the man swallow and nod, and satisfied, he quietly slid the door open with his free hand. They tiptoed inside, and Kenshin saw straight away that they were in a bedroom, in the centre of which was a very ugly large western bed.

It was a monstrosity carved of thick, dark oak, and it four large posts sticking up from each corner. Around the bed were thick purple velvet curtains, but they were open, and Kenshin could see that lying in the bed were a man and a woman.

They were kissing each other; they had not yet noticed that there were other people in the room.

"Good evening," said Kenshin all of a sudden, interrupting their foreplay. Both the man and the woman bolted upright at the sound of his voice, startled.

"Who the _hell _are you?!" demanded the woman, outraged, and Kenshin realised with some surprise, that she was one of the ugliest people that he had ever seen. She was tall, and thin; all limbs, with wiry hair and steely grey eyes and a face like a crow's. She also looked to be in her forties; slightly older than the man who sat next to her.

_So he is Shinzei,_ thought Kenshin, curious. So far, the man hadn't spoken, or revealed anything of himself, except for when he had first been startled. Shinzei appeared to be in his late thirties, and he peered at Kenshin with beady, searching black eyes which were set in a hard, chiselled face. He was also a heavily muscled man; Kenshin recognised raw, brutish power when he saw it.

"You must be Shinzei," said Kenshin, his voice neutral. "There is something that I need to discuss with you."

"Is it so important that you must come barging in unannounced like this?" Shinzei raised an eyebrow, but apart from this, he kept his expression tight and controlled. "Who are you?"

_If only he knew…_

Kenshin was afraid that this would happen. How could he answer a question like that at this moment? How could he answer something that he didn't know the answer to? Carefully, he schooled his expression to stillness. He was still holding a blade to his hostage's throat, and that made things slightly difficult. The man squirmed a little, but Kenshin simply twisted his sword a tiny bit; a little reminder that his concentration hadn't lapsed at all.

"You should know the answer to that," replied Kenshin smoothly, giving away nothing. "After all, it is you who has been trying to kill me these past few days."

Shinzei didn't miss a beat. "I know that," he said calmly, surprising Kenshin. He _knew_?! "All I want to know is _who_ you are."

Kenshin smiled mirthlessly, unable to contain his disbelief.

"Yes, who the hell are you?!" demanded the woman in Shinzei's bed all of a sudden. "How dare you…"

Shinzei held one hand to the woman's breast and pushed her back down. "Be quiet, Yanako. Let me handle this." The woman made a sour face but complied, all the while keeping her hawk's eyes on Kenshin, who had not moved at all. The sword he held was steady; as unwavering as his resolve, despite the pain in his shoulder.

Shinzei noticed this with interest. "You have managed to beat up sixteen of my men; you thwarted my second best assassin, and then you killed my best assassin. You are no ordinary target." Kenshin nodded slightly; almost imperceptibly. So Shinzei had sent all of them. He hadn't killed the woman-assassin earlier that morning, though. That had been her own doing.

"I was simply given a description of you, and told that you must be killed," explained Shinzei. "I didn't know who you were, or what you had done, and frankly, I didn't care. All I knew was that I owed someone a certain number of favours, and for that you were supposed to die." The large man hesitated, taking the time to look Kenshin up and down. "After all, your physical attributes are not hard to miss…" he paused again, regarding Kenshin as if he were not real, but some strange spectre. "But you… you're _extraordinary_," he exclaimed, as if he was a little unable to believe it. "How did you do it? You must be a remarkable fighter…" Shinzei laid on the compliments, hoping to stroke Kenshin's ego a little, however his black beady eyes remained as hard as agates in his dark face.

Rather than try to answer questions that he couldn't, Kenshin decided that he should play his cards. If what Shinzei said was true; that he didn't _know_ who Kenshin was, then he was practically useless. Kenshin would just have to climb higher up the chain until he could find some answers.

"Who ordered you to kill me?" he asked quietly, replacing the tension that had seemed to dissipate for a short while. Kenshin's hostage no longer bothered to squirm; he simply held still, trying not to breathe too heavily or swallow, so that the blade of the sword would not cut too deeply into his neck. Kenshin's shoulder was beginning to ache terribly, but none of that was evident on his emotionless face.

* * *

Shinzei looked thoughtful for a moment, but in actuality he was trying not to show that he felt a little intimidated by the force of Kenshin's glare.

_His eyes… but what colour are they? _Strange, that eyes of an indeterminate colour could have such an effect on him. Shinzei was normally a man who was difficult to stare down, but in the face of Kenshin's gaze, he almost averted his eyes. _Almost. _

"Are you joking?" he said finally, smiling a little. "You want me to reveal the identity of my employer? Don't be absurd."

"You will tell me," stated Kenshin, "or he dies." To emphasise his point, he pulled his hostage's head back tightly so that the man gasped in pain. In reply, Shinzei laughed cruelly.

"You think that I honestly care that much if he dies?" The gangster shook his head in disbelief. "He's nothing to me; just a second-rate lackey."

Under Kenshin's blade, the tall man trembled a little, and he looked away.

* * *

"After he dies, your woman will, and then you." Kenshin half-wondered if his threat was idle, and then realised that he wasn't sure. Would he kill this man? _Could_ he kill Shinzei? He tensed as he realised that Shinzei was reaching under his pillow. All of a sudden the woman called Yanako gasped as Kenshin threw his hostage across the room and suddenly appeared at Shinzei's side, with his blade at the man's throat. In that same instant, Shinzei had reached under his pillow and produced a revolver, which he had cocked and pointed at Kenshin's head. For a moment, there was silence, save for the rough breathing of both men.

"What are you going to do now," hissed Shinzei, his voice strained. "Slit my throat, and receive a bullet in the head?"

Kenshin blinked, suddenly surprised, and at a loss. The barrel of the gun was only a few centimetres away from his face, and it glinted menacingly. He realised that he couldn't defeat a bullet; well at least not at such close quarters. They were locked in a stalemate.


	7. Trials and Errors

It took all of Shinzei's willpower to steady the hand that held the gun to Kenshin's head. If there was the slightest lapse in his concentration; the slightest hesitation, then he knew that he would be defeated in the blink of an eye.

Shinzei realized that right now, the difference between life and death was nothing but the threat of a bullet. Whatever advantage he had, or might have had, dwindled with every passing moment. If he didn't act soon, then any chance that he had of surviving this would be lost.

He noticed that momentarily, the swordsman seemed to have paused, caught up in his indecision. To make his point clearer, Shinzei increased the pressure a little by pressing the muzzle of the gun harder into the man's temple. In response, he felt the sword slice ever more slightly into the tender skin of his neck; just so much that it was able to draw blood.

"Put the gun down," said Kenshin then, his voice even and giving away nothing. Trying to make himself sound equally cold, Shinzei scoffed.

"What, and put myself at your mercy?" If he could have shaken his head, he would have. "I don't think so. Perhaps you should put the sword down instead."

"Not until I get some answers," replied Kenshin. He adjusted his stance slightly so that he was now peering into the other man's black eyes. "Where is your man going?" he asked, not bothering to turn around.

Shinzei raised his eyebrows in shock. Behind Kenshin, the previous hostage - Shinzei's tall subordinate - had silently started to limp out of the room, urged on by a moment of eye contact with his boss.

_How had he known?_

"I don't think that you are in a position to demand an answer of me." Shinzei covered his surprise with anger. "Let me just tell you that even if you succeed in killing me, my men will be here in an instant. You might be a skilled fighter, but can you handle thirty well-trained men all on your own?"

There was perhaps a chance that Kenshin could, but Shinzei didn't want to admit that to himself. He had in his hands right now an opportunity of inconceivable proportions – if only he could adjust the scales slightly so that they were tilted in his favour.

But what could he do?

Shinzei felt something brush past his naked leg, and realized that the woman Yanako was still lying beside him, and hadn't moved ever since he had reprimanded her before. A brief, cold smile reached Shinzei's face before he spoke aloud, keeping his voice steady and firm.

"Yanako," he said. "Go outside, and tell the men that they are to go to the clinic of Doctor Yoshikawa and kill both him and his assistant."

Yanako nodded slowly, sensing what was on Shinzei's mind. Then she slid out of the bed and wrapped one of the sheets around her naked body. Beside him, Shinzei felt the swordsman tense.

"Don't move," he said a little too hastily. "Or else I shoot. You can't do anything. Let her go."

To his intense relief, Kenshin did nothing. He simply watched as Yanako slipped out of the room, her tall, lanky frame disappearing into the darkness. Again there was silence, and then, suddenly, Kenshin spoke.

"Call off your men," he said abruptly, once again taking Shinzei by surprise. "Tell them not to kill the doctor, and I will let you go."

Shinzei fought harder than ever to keep his hand from trembling. Inside however, he was exultant. He had done it. He had gambled on the one thing that he knew about this man, and it had worked.

_Almost.__ Not yet, though._

What a prize. What an amazing coup, if he could have a fighter of such unparalleled skill as this man before him under his command. Shinzei had to exert a great deal of self-control to keep himself from trembling in anticipation.

"We have to go to the other side of the dojo," he said tersely. "That is where they would be right now."

"Fine." Kenshin stood up, but the position of his sword did not waver at all. Slowly, he dragged Shinzei with him, not caring that the man was stark naked. Shinzei maintained his grip on the gun all the while, concentrating only on the pale skin of Kenshin's forehead.

_At least let me get some clothes on!_ Shinzei wanted to say aloud, but to do so would be to admit weakness, so he just pretended like nothing was amiss.

What an odd couple they made as they moved slowly and awkwardly out of the room; one with his gun to the other's head, and the other with his blade to his partner's throat. If the situation wasn't so dangerous, then Shinzei thought that he might have even found it funny.

But no, the feel of cold steel at one's throat was no laughing matter at all.

* * *

"Ueno, Nakamura, stop!" On their way to the main hall – what had supposedly once been a training hall, Kenshin had seen the men walking towards the gate; they were armed with long swords, the two of them, and he had no doubts as to their intentions.

"Stop them," he had commanded their boss, and the man had obeyed, shouting out frantically to his subordinates in a harsh, booming voice. The two men had stopped in their tracks and turned around in surprise. They could just make out the dark figure of their leader in the faint moonlight, and what they saw caused them to blink in disbelief.

"They will not die?" The other man spoke suddenly, and the tone of his voice made their hair stand on end.

"No," gasped Shinzei. After a moment's hesitation, Kenshin stared at the gang leader, and then slowly dropped his sword, much to the confusion of Ueno and Nakamura. It fell to the gravel with an audible clatter, and Shinzei jumped away at once, as if scalded. He kept the gun trained directly onto Kenshin's head however, for he was taking no chances whatsoever. It suddenly occurred to Ueno and Nakamura that their boss was absolutely stark naked.

"Uh… what's going on, boss?" asked one of them nervously. The situation right now; it was completely beyond him.

"Shut up and go tell the rest of the men that Yoshikawa and his assistant are not to be touched. I will explain the rest later."

Both men turned to leave, but at the last minute, Shinzei pointed to Ueno. "Don't follow him. Go and get me a good strong length of rope." The man nodded and hurried off, leaving Shinzei standing in the middle of the courtyard with a gun pointed at Kenshin's head.

"So," he said. "Now that we have a little time to talk, perhaps you would like to tell me who you are."

Kenshin hesitated, and stared directly into Shinzei's eyes, although he could not see much, for the taller man's gaze was hooded in the darkness. In the space of a few minutes, he had allowed the gangster to gain the upper hand, but what else could he have done? Shinzei would have ordered Yoshikawa and Ryuji to be killed.

_But… what do you care?_ Should it have bothered him, he who could wield a sword with such deadly efficiency? The death of two men, yes it bothered him a lot, because they had taken him in and cared for him out of simple charity. That, and the fact that the girl called Kaoru would probably still be with them.

He would rather be captured than endanger her. He didn't know why, but he was more concerned for her safety than he was for his own.

No… being under the power of this man, he could handle this for the time being, because he was certain that Shinzei didn't want him dead. If that had been the case, he would have already been a corpse on the ground, with a bullet-hole in his head. No, as long as he was alive, Kenshin would find a way out of this mess.

* * *

Shinzei squinted in the darkness, frustrated that he was unable to clearly make out his hostage's expression. Perhaps it was just his imagination, however it seemed that a strange state of calmness had just descended over the man, and knowing the caliber of his opponent, Shinzei realized that this was a potentially dangerous thing.

"My name is Himura Kenshin." All of a sudden, Kenshin spoke, his voice clear in the still night air. "That is all that I will tell you about myself." Shinzei nodded, his expression a little smug.

"All I needed was your name," he told Kenshin. Shinzei sensed that Kenshin was a stubborn man, and that he would get no more out of him. Of course, he could resort to torture, but with Kenshin, he didn't think that that would be very effective. "I have connections… there are other ways of getting information."

* * *

_Connections?_ The thought occurred to Kenshin that perhaps what he was looking for would appear right here, without him having to go anywhere else. Maybe he could still use this situation to his own advantage.

Momentarily, he paused to wonder where he had learnt to think like this… to think as if he was at war...

_At war?__ But… with whom?_

_

* * *

_

"But for now," Shinzei pointed the gun at Kenshin threateningly, "put your hands behind your back." The man called Ueno had returned with a loop of rope that Shinzei glanced at. He then nodded in approval.

"Bind his hands together," he told Ueno, and the man complied. Kenshin did not resist; he simply allowed his wrists to become limp so that the man could tie them together.

"Now take the other of his swords. It is sheathed at his waist." Shinzei hadn't overlooked the wakizashi that Kenshin still possessed, and he realized the danger of leaving it with the man. "Pick up his katana; it is on the ground." Ueno gathered both weapons awkwardly and sheathed them. Kenshin glared at the man, but said nothing.

* * *

His cold silence was enough to unnerve Ueno.

"Follow me," commanded Shinzei, but Ueno didn't move immediately. Instead, he stared at his leader for a moment.

"Uh.."

"What is it?" demanded Shinzei harshly. He was obviously not in the mood to talk.

"It's just that… well… you're naked, Shinzei-sama."

Silence, for a moment, and Ueno cringed. Shinzei simply shrugged. "So I am." He pointed to the swords that Ueno held awkwardly in both hands. "Draw the katana, and keep it pointed at his back. Then lead him into the main hall. Do _not_ take your eyes off him for one second."

Ueno gulped and nodded. He still didn't understand what was going on, but he could tell that the short man whom he had bound worried Shinzei, and that made him nervous. Carefully, he unsheathed one of Kenshin's swords, and then held it up so that it was pointing at his back.

"Start walking," he hissed, doing his best to sound threatening. Kenshin didn't even bother to glance backwards; he simply began to move in the direction that Ueno indicated.

Eventually, Shinzei lowered his gun; he must have realised Kenshin was in no position to offer any resistance. Then he turned and went to look for some clothes.

* * *

When Shinzei walked in a few minutes later, wearing a fine black silk kimono, all of them men in the hall had already stopped rolling dice, or drinking sake, or fondling the whores that they had brought with them, because they had all been staring at Kenshin curiously ever since Ueno brought him in.

"Who the hell's he?" one of them had asked Ueno when they had first entered.

"I don't know," replied Ueno. "Boss just told me to tie him up and bring him in here."

"This little guy? What's so bad about him? He doesn't look so threatening to me. How come you've got a sword at his back?"

"Um..." Ueno hadn't been so sure. "Boss told me to. I'm just following orders."

Then Shinzei had entered, and everyone had shut up. Curious eyes had followed the boss, noting the gun in his hand and the way in which he had looked at his captive. Almost as if he was eyeing a prize. The captive did not react in any way, however as soon as Shinzei had entered there had been something different about him… something that caused the men to remain silent and look at him warily. It was almost as if he had about him a sense of menace, even though he was unarmed and bound by the wrists.

"Do any of you," asked Shinzei suddenly, raising his voice so that all could hear him, "recognize this man?"

Murmurs of "no" and "never seen 'im before…" were heard, until surprisingly enough, it was one of the whores who covered her breasts and raised her head to speak.

"I… I think I have seen him before," she said softly, and Shinzei motioned for her to come closer.

"Tell me… where?"

"He often used to visit a place where I used to work… a restaurant called The Akabeko."

Kenshin's eyes widened at mention of the name. He couldn't quite place it, but it _did_ seem very familiar. Shinzei noticed the reaction and motioned for the woman to continue.

"He would go there at least once a week, with his… family, I think they were. I knew the woman… she owns a dojo not far from here. Her name is Kamiya, I think."

_Family?!_ Of all the things that she would say, Kenshin had never thought that she would make mention of… a family? Could he possibly have a family? It didn't seem as if such a thing could be true. What disturbed him more however, was that the woman had known Kaoru's name.

"You surprise me, Himura," said Shinzei as he turned to face Kenshin with a slight smirk. "I never would have taken you for a… family man." There was a whole world of menace in that last statement which caused Kenshin to see red for a split second. With great effort, he forced his anger into the back of his mind and made his thoughts become cold. If Shinzei ever tried to rile Himura, then he would fail, as long as Kenshin was in control of his mind.

"She must have been mistaken," said Kenshin coldly, "for I have no family."

"We'll see about that." Shinzei would find out for sure exactly who Kenshin was soon enough. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed Ueno. "Lock him in the spare room next to the girl," he said, and Kenshin could do nothing but walk before the sharp point of a sword. He did not appreciate being paraded around in front of a bunch of common criminals, but right now, he had no choice in the matter.

So Kenshin did not even bother to offer any resistance as Ueno and another man pushed him into a small, dark room. Behind him, the think wooden door shut with a loud bang, and he heard the sound of a key turning in a lock.

Himura Kenshin however, did not intend to stay a prisoner for long.

* * *

There was a man called Satoshi, who worked for the Tokyo police department, who was also in Shinzei's employ, on occasion. Usually Shinzei would call him when he needed information about a particular person or event, since Satoshi had access to government records and owned a wealth of the type of information that only existed in the memories of men. The next day, Shinzei decided to pay him a visit.

Appearances could be deceiving, Shinzei knew, for Satoshi was a short, chubby little man with large, continually blinking eyes which made gave him a perpetual look of bemusement. He wore large spectacles and was rapidly becoming bald, however Shinzei had soon come to realize that behind the bumbling façade was a mind like a steel trap.

Satoshi was a clerk of sorts; an office administrator who dealt largely with paperwork, however in the past he had provided certain 'services' to those who were able to pay him, and Shinzei knew that his past masters had included several highly ranked politicians.

So when Shinzei had walked into the police station that morning, he had noticed cynically that Satoshi's look of surprise was entirely feigned, and was for his sake only.

"Ah Shinzei!" Satoshi had a large stack of paper in his arms. "What a surprise it is to see you. Please, take a seat while I finish filing these records, and then we will have a talk. There's nothing better than catching up with old friends."  
Normally, Shinzei would have refused to wait, considering it an affront to his person, however with Satoshi, things were different. The little bastard held in his head a wealth of valuable information that was potentially important to those like Shinzei, and he knew his own worth too. It was as a result of this only that Shinzei sat in the hard wooden chair, waiting patiently as Satoshi filed the records. The short man hummed as he worked.

Finally, he pushed the last of the papers into some kind of envelope and turned around to face Shinzei. "I suppose that I could take my lunch break a few minutes early," he said, smiling. "There is a restaurant down the road that sells good noodles."  
Shinzei fought back the urge to snap at the man, instead nodding in agreement as he rose to follow Satoshi out of the police station. The restaurant that they came to a few blocks later appeared quite shabby to Shinzei's eyes, however at Satoshi's insistence, he took a seat and even ordered food for both of them.

"So," once again, Satoshi smiled disarmingly, once they were seated across from each other. "Shall I assume that this is something more than a mere social visit?"

"I need some information," Shinzei was impatient by nature, so he cut straight to the point, "regarding a certain… person."

Satoshi nodded, it was as he had been expecting. "Go on…"

"Have you heard of a man," continued Shinzei, not noticing that his voice had dropped in volume slightly, "called Himura Kenshin?"

He was perceptive enough to catch the brief flicker of alarm in Shinzei's eyes before the man smiled once again. "H... Himura, you say?"

"Do you know him or not?"

"Obviously you have not heard the rumours…"

"What rumours?!"

Satoshi breathed deeply and clasped his hands together. Still, he wore that grin on his face, and Shinzei longed to wipe it from his bloated features. Then, all of a sudden, the smile was gone, as Satoshi looked up, his eyes now hard.

"I will tell you what I know," he said in an even voice, "and rest assured that most of it is more than mere hearsay, however you know my price."

Shinzei nodded. Satoshi's price was steep; painful even, however it was nothing that he couldn't afford. Satisfied, Satoshi began to tell Shinzei what he knew about Himura Kenshin.

"The reason," he began, "that records of this man even exist has to do with events during the Bakumatsu." Shinzei's eyes widened in surprise.

"Bakumatsu?!" he blurted. "But he can't have been more than a youth back then! A boy of fourteen or fifteen…"

"That's right." Satoshi's face remained expressionless, and Shinzei's mentally cursed himself for losing his composure. "However, even at that age, he was more than sufficiently skilled to be able to do what they asked of him…"

"Which was…?"

"You might have heard talk during those years, of a certain assassin who was in the employ of the Choshuu Ishin Shishi."

"The faction that you worked for?"

"Exactly right." Satoshi cleared his throat and took a sip of tea. "At that time, his reputation earned him a name… due to his mastery of the battoujutsu…"

"Hitokiri Battousai." The words came out of Shinzei's mouth with more than a hint of disbelief. "Surely not…"

"You doubt me?" Satoshi sounded slightly offended, and Shinzei raised one hand placatingly.

"I don't disbelieve you. It's just that…" Shinzei shook his head, masking the fact that his thoughts were whirling. Himura Kenshin… was the Hitokiri Battousai? Well, that would certainly account for his skill with the sword… however Shinzei still could not come to terms with the fact that Himura seemed so young. How was it that a mere teenage boy could earn such a reputation? Himura Kenshin… the infamous hitokiri? And he was being held captive by Shinzei himself. Unconsciously, he shivered slightly with nervous excitement. The fact did not escape Satoshi's keen gaze, and he looked at Shinzei strangely.

"What is it?" he asked, and Shinzei smiled coldly.

"What would you say," he said with a certain amount of satisfaction, "if I told you that Battousai was now working… for me?"

Satoshi shook his head. "I wouldn't believe you," he replied flatly. "Himura Kenshin doesn't kill anymore. And besides, you wouldn't be able to make him work for you. Not even you, Shinzei."

"Oh but you don't understand, Satoshi." Shinzei looked at him with dark, narrowed eyes. "I have him captive right now, bound by the wrists, without his swords. He most certainly _will _work for me!"

"In that case," much to Shinzei's surprise, Satoshi stood up abruptly, knocking over his half-full cup of tea. The man's voice had suddenly become soft and icy, and Shinzei realized that he had never seen this side of Satoshi before. "I must say good-day to you, sir."

"Wait, you can't just..." Shinzei looked up in anger as Satoshi turned to leave. "What about your fee…?"

"Forget about it." Satoshi was beginning to sweat heavily, and his bald head glistened with perspiration. "Just know this Shinzei: those who step too close to the flame get burnt."

* * *

"He hasn't returned." Doctor Yoshikawa looked at Kaoru apologetically, and she nodded in understanding. Last night she had returned to the dojo, shocked and disappointed and above all, worried that Kenshin might be in trouble. _No_, she corrected herself. _Not 'might'_. Kenshin most certainly _was_in trouble. When she had told Sano and Yahiko what had occurred that day, both of them had demanded that they go and find him.

"I have no idea where he might have gone," Kaoru had admitted however, and that was the truth, since Kenshin had not told them anything. Kenshin was normally quite reticent when it came to his inner thoughts, and when Kaoru had seen him that day he had been even more so. It disturbed her a little that she didn't know him well enough to be able to predict where he would go, but then again, who could tell what an amnesiac would do?

Nevertheless she had accompanied Sano and Yahiko as they had roamed the streets for a while, inspecting familiar places and places where they might possibly find Kenshin. They returned after a few hours of searching, having found no trace of Kenshin at all.

This morning, she had returned to the clinic, hoping fervently for some word of Kenshin.

No such luck. When she had walked in on the doctor, the grim lines of his face had said it all. For the first time in a while, Kaoru began to feel afraid.

"So… what can we do?" she asked, looking up at Yoshikawa with wide eyes. He shook his head slightly.

"I'm afraid that there's nothing we _can_ do," he told her. "I have already sent Ryuji out to search for Kenshin, however something tells me that he won't have much luck. All we can do, I suppose, is wait. Kenshin is more than capable of protecting himself; I'm sure that he will return."

"Uh… okay." It frustrated Kaoru; this waiting, not being able to do anything. Yoshikawa looked at her understandingly and offered her a cup of tea, which Kaoru accepted only because she didn't want to appear rude.

She was far too agitated to be thinking about tea at a time like this though, and she sipped the bitter liquid absently, keeping uncharacteristically quiet.

The doctor seemed to recognize that Kaoru's silence was unusual, for he tried to draw her into conversation several times. Each time, Kaoru would reply, however one could tell that her thoughts were on other matters.

So preoccupied was Kaoru that she didn't notice when two men appeared at the front of the clinic, carrying long swords. The doctor, who had been staring out of the window, stood up when he saw the men. He noticed that his normally steady surgeon's hands were now shaking.

"Kaoru," he said urgently, "we have to leave. _Now!"_

"Huh?" Kaoru looked up, a little startled by the urgency in Yoshikawa's voice. "What are you talking about?"

"Please, just listen to me. There are two men out the front of the clinic right now, and I think that they mean to do us harm. We have to run."

At those words, Kaoru snapped back into reality and realized at once the true implications of what Yoshikawa was saying. Two men were striding up to the porch, and as Kaoru stared out of the window she stood up, realizing with dismay that she did not have her bokken; she had left it at the dojo.

"Let's go then," she said urgently, ushering the doctor out of the room.

"There is a back door," he informed her, allowing himself to be pulled along by Kaoru. "Turn left at the end of this passage…"

They were already inside the clinic, the two men with swords, for Kaoru could hear their gruff, angry voices.

"Where the hell is everyone?!" demanded one of them. "Boss said that the doctor was supposed to be running a clinic."

"They probably saw us, you idiot. Told you we should've gone in the back way."

"Well that's probably where they've gone. Let's go."

At those words, Kaoru began to run, not caring if her feet pounded loudly on the polished wooden floors. She dragged Yoshikawa after her, not caring that he was breathing heavily. There was no time for small concerns right now.

_Back door… back door… there! _Kaoru could see the tattered sliding door, and she dove for it, pulling it open and dragging herself and Yoshikawa through. Looking around, she saw that they had exited onto a small, narrow alleyway that had only one way out.

"Keep running, doctor!" she urged, pulling the wheezing old man along. Kaoru was well aware that a dead-end alley was the most dangerous place for them to be right now, and so she began to rush towards the end, where it opened out onto the street.

Too late, she realized, gasping in dismay as two tall figures suddenly darkened the exit, their long swords drawn.


	8. Bending the Will

Kaoru and the doctor had nowhere to turn. Cold steel was aimed directly at them, and the two men were poised, about to attack if they made a sudden movement. Kaoru skidded to a halt, throwing her hands up. "What do you want? We haven't done anything wrong."

"That may be so." One of the men, the taller of the two, had edged up beside her and now the point of his sword was hovering dangerously close to her neck. "But we have our orders. You are to come with us."

The other man had appeared behind Doctor Yoshikawa. Kaoru searched his face, her anxious eyes darting up and down the length of the alley. The doctor would give nothing away. "I suppose we have no choice but to do as they say." He was calm, and somehow this managed to reassure Kaoru. She looked at their attackers, and recognised the hardness of men trained for battle. She had seen this kind of fighter many times; they usually came after Kenshin.

_Kenshin, where are you?_ If only he had been here, Kaoru was certain he could have taken these two easily. But then what would that mean? Kenshin didn't have his sakabatou any more. She shuddered. She glanced at the doctor again and went still.

_Stay calm, Kaoru_. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing her fear. "Who ordered this?" she demanded, staring the tall man in the eye. He did not flinch. "And for what reason?"

The swordsman shrugged. "We are trained not to ask questions. If I knew, I probably wouldn't be here." He motioned with the tip of the blade. "Now move. I am going to sheathe my sword, and you will walk in front of me. You…" he gestured toward Doctor Yoshikawa "you do the same. The two of you must do exactly as I say. If you so much as look back; if you utter a word; if you try to escape, you are as good as dead."

Kaoru turned slowly, making eye contact with the doctor one last time. Yoshikawa's brown gaze was wide and clear, betraying no hint of emotion. With their guards breathing down their necks, they walked out into the street.

* * *

Kenshin sat in the corner of the darkened room, peering into blackness. His swords were gone, and he hadn't eaten anything except for a small serving of rice with pickled vegetables and something which might have been chicken. He sat and breathed slowly, conserving his strength. He was aware that his injury was still far from healed, but if it was needed, he could ignore the pain. It wasn't a mortal wound.

_I've been in worse situations than this._ Had he? Somehow he felt it wasn't as bad as it could be. Things were not looking good, but what choice did he have? If he'd retaliated, they would have killed Kaoru and the doctor. Kenshin still didn't know much about himself, but he certainly knew he couldn't let the girl die. It would go against everything which made him tick, and right now, he wasn't sure exactly what that was. He breathed out slowly and relaxed, closing his eyes. After a few minutes, he became aware of a muffled sound.

It was coming from the room next door. Between the thick wooden wall and himself was another person; a child. She was crying. Kenshin crept over to the other side of the room and pressed his ear against the cold timber. After a while, the sobs stopped, replaced by quiet sniffling. The girl was alone, locked in a cell similar to his own.

He had a good idea why this was the case. Silently, Kenshin vowed to bring great harm to Shinzei for using a child to get to him. This meant they would come for him soon, and his work would begin. Whatever Shinzei intended for him, it would probably involve killing. An icy calm spread across Kenshin's thoughts as he slowed his breathing and retreated into himself, aiming for an almost trance-like state.

As he delved into his thoughts, his heartbeat quickened. With an iron will, Kenshin forced himself to become calm. His mind was chaos; thoughts of bloodshed and violence swirled around baffling feelings of worry, of loss… of regret. He thought of Kaoru and the doctor. He wasn't sure why, but he longed to hear her voice again.

_Kenshin_. He imagined her saying his name, and it became an anchor in the cruel sea of his thoughts.

_Himura Kenshin…._

_Himura._

"Himura!" Kenshin's eyes snapped open as a key turned in the lock. The heavy door was jerked open, and two figures stepped into the room. Kenshin glared at Shinzei and Yanako, the thin woman who had shared her boss' bed. Behind her was a young girl, eyes red, for she had been crying. Seeing Kenshin, the girl sniffed and straightened, glaring at Shinzei with animosity. So this was his neighbour?

Kenshin remained seated. He looked at Shinzei for a moment then dismissed him, instead catching the eyes of the young girl. She couldn't have been more than seven or eight years old. He broke into a smile. "Maa maa, little one, don't worry. It will be all right."

The young girl studied Kenshin's face, her eyes wide. "I'm glad to see you're better, Onii-san." She pulled her hand from Yanako's grasp and crossed her arms. "I still have your funny looking reverse sword. _They _don't know where I've hidden it." The girl gave Yanako and Shinzei a dark look, before the woman grabbed her hair and pulled her away. "Be quiet, brat!"

Kenshin stood, his movements quick and silent. He had a hand on Yanako's wrist in a split second, twisting it. The tall woman gasped in pain.

"Don't lay a finger on her," he hissed. He let go and Yanako stepped back, afraid. Shinzei laughed.

"For a ruthless killer, you certainly have a soft spot for children, _Battousai_." The gang leader stepped into the light, smiling. "At first I took her because I was angry. After all, she was the one who saved your life. I wasn't counting on using her as a hostage. But when everything is said and done, I think I have you figured out."

Kenshin froze. _Battousai_. The name sent lightning through his mind. He caught flashes of himself, younger, wild, desperate. The smell of smoke and blood filled his nostrils and he saw a killer slicing through men with deadly intent. With godlike speed. He knew this killer all too well.

"Did you think I wouldn't find out your true identity, Himura Kenshin?" Emboldened, Shinzei took a step towards Kenshin. "I have connections. Nothing is impossible for me. Even though the days of war are long finished, there are still men who remember you like it was yesterday. It is impossible to erase a long and bloody history such as your own."

Kenshin could not reply. He was still reeling from the jolt of shock which had come with the revelation of his old name. These memories, fragments… he could not piece them together. He needed time.

"Which was why," Shinzei continued, "I was rather surprised when you surrendered to me. You would put the lives of two innocents above your own? Perhaps not all the stories they tell of the infamous Battousai are entirely true. I was expecting to have to put a bullet into your head, Himura."

"You would not have had a chance." Kenshin stared at Shinzei, who believed him. In the moonlight he could see Kenshin's eyes changing, from rusty violet to yellow to amber. The most startling, fierce gaze.

"What do you want of me?" Kenshin's voice was flat. "If you want me to kill someone, then please explain yourself, because as soon as I have a sword in my hand, you are a dead man."

"Oh, that's all been thought of." Shinzei took a step back, and motioned for the girl to take his hand. She did so, reluctantly, clenching her teeth. "Sasami_-chan _here is going to act as my little guarantee. If you don't do a dirty job for me tonight, she is dead before the sun rises."

"You expect too much." Kenshin still didn't understand what Shinzei was trying to do, but he was sure there was still something the man wasn't telling him. "As I said, as soon as I have a sword in my hand, you are a a dead man."

"I'm sorry, Battousai, but things are not so simple." Yanako, clutching her wrist, gestured towards Sasami. "I'm afraid she has been poisoned. A few hours ago, I mixed night-blossom into her food. Within the next hour, she should start to have a fever. A few hours after that, she will become unconscious. If you leave it much longer, her heart will begin to slow, until it stops."

"You would kill a child?"

"No, Battousai, _you_ will kill her, if you don't do what Shinzei-sama says. Fortunately, I also know of an antidote to this poison. I am the only one who can make it, so you will keep your sword sheathed while you are here. If you kill me, the girl dies. If you fail to carry out Shinzei's orders, the girl dies. What choice do you have?" Yanako patted Sasami on the head. Kenshin noticed that the child looked very pale. She was starting to sweat.

"Spare the child," Kenshin's voice was low and soft. "I will do this thing for you."

Shinzei clapped his hands together. "That's fantastic! See Himura, things can be easy if you do what I say."

Kenshin's hands twitched. If he had a sword at this moment, he would have sliced Shinzei in half. "Who do you want me to kill?"

"My boss." Shinzei grinned. "The man who wanted you dead in the first place. His name is Mr. Hayashi. You might know of him from your days with the Ishin Shishi."

Kenshin's face remained blank. The name meant nothing to him.

"You have four hours at the most, _Battousai_. However, I'm sure you won't need that long." Shinzei whispered something to Yanako and the woman left, Sasami in tow. "Come with me, I'll see that you are well equipped for the job."

Kenshin followed, his mind swirling, in chaos. Being called _Battousai_ irritated him; it was as if Shinzei had a great dirty secret and was only revealing a small portion of it. But the name was also so familiar; it fit like a glove. It was worn, old, tried and tested. Kenshin knew he was Battousai, as much as he was Himura Kenshin. Could he kill this Mr. Hayashi? Possibly. It didn't matter right now. He was about to get his swords back, and they were all he really needed.

* * *

"Busu isn't back yet?" Yahiko was hungry. "She doesn't usually take this long."

Sano yawned, and stretched his long arms. "She's probably gone looking for Kenshin. She's been worried like crazy, these past few days. I keep telling her that Kenshin's okay, that he wouldn't leave us without telling, but she won't listen. Kaoru's stubborn."

Yahiko nodded, agreeing with Sano, but he could sense the worry in the tall man's voice. "Well, where is Kenshin then? What if he's in trouble? He might need our help!"

"Kenshin's pretty well equipped to deal with most of the bad fellas who come poking around here, so I haven't been too worried about it. I'm sure he's just gone off for his own reasons. You know how he get." Kenshin still had his strange moods from time to time. There had been a few occasions when Sano had walked in and caught him off guard, deep in thought. Kenshin could get pretty gloomy sometimes.

"But it's not like Kenshin to go off without telling us!" Yahiko pressed on, agitated. "I'm going to go look for them."

Sano nodded. It was no longer any use hiding his worry. Yahiko was a smart kid; he knew what was up. "I asked around the town this afternoon, but no-one's seen anything. To be honest, kid, I have no idea where to start."

"You asked around? So you _were _worried…"

"Yeah, I thought I'd just wait it out." Sano stood, his stomach growling. "I've got a lot of faith in Kenshin. Was gonna be patient before jumping to conclusions 'n all, but seeing as we're both hungry, and Kaoru's not back yet, what do you reckon we head down to the Akabeko and see if anyone round there knows a thing or two. I've already been there today, but you never know, something new might come up."

"Okay! Just wait a minute." Yahiko ran to retrieve his wooden sword and his pouch of coins. Sano folded his arms and leaned against the wall, deep in thought.

_Where the hell are you, Kenshin? Two days and you haven't been round and nobody's heard anything? What's going on?_

Usually if Kenshin was in trouble, or someone was after him, they would quickly receive word of a fight. But nobody in town had seen anything. Sano had been to all the usual joints; the Akabeko, a few of the izakayas he regularly frequented, the local gambling den… But all he got was shrugged shoulders and blank stares.

"Let's go." Yahiko was by his side in an instant, his face set with determination. "There's no way Kenshin would just walk out on us. He _has_ to be in some kind of trouble."

"I hope not, kid." But Sano feared it might be true.

* * *

Ryuji burst into the doctor's house, panting. "Yoshikawa-sama!" he yelled, his voice cracking. "Doctor…?"

Silence. There was no one at home. Ryuji went cold. He felt sick to his stomach, as if he were about to vomit. He couldn't get the image out of his mind, the sight of the young girl's grandfather, brutally slaughtered and left to the crows. And now the doctor was gone.

Maybe he had left to walk the young lady home? Or perhaps…

Ryuji shook his head, frantic. He had told the doctor not to treat the stranger; this Himura Kenshin. The patient was clearly involved in dangerous business; in bad things ordinary citizens such as themselves should not have to think about. Now there were killers all over town. Perhaps Ryuji would be next. He trembled, fists clenched tightly so his knuckles showed white.

He had everywhere, searching for word of a red-haired man with a cross-shaped scar on his cheek. A man with eyes that wavered between violet and amber.

But nobody had been able to help him. And now Kaoru and Doctor Yoshikawa were gone.

Himura… who the hell was he? A patient with no memories of his past; a mass of contradictions, terrifyingly fierce at one moment, then pensive the next. Brutal and gentle and all mixed up. And bad news for them all.

Ryuji shook his head. No sense in worrying about that now. He had to find the doctor; Yoshikawa-sama would know what to do. He had friends in high places; amongst the police, the government, the military. He could put an end to this.

Ryuji ran out, the door slamming behind him. The sun was beginning to set, casting a red glare across the town. Where could they be? He had no idea where to start. Perhaps they too had gone in search of Himura. Perhaps they were walking around town, asking for information.

_Oh please, let it be so. _

Ryuji skidded to a halt outside a well known restaurant, the Akabeko. A tall man and a younger boy carrying a wooden sword had just walked inside. The big man looked uncouth, dangerous, the kind of person who might associate with someone like Himura. The boy had an angry expression on his face. Maybe they might have some information?

Ryuji might ask… but he was intimidated by the look on the tall man's face. He stared after them, noting the kanji on his back. It was the character for 'evil'. Ryuji didn't want to talk to these people, but he didn't really have a choice. He followed them inside.

* * *

Sano seated himself across from Yahiko and ordered oyakodon with an extra serving of rice. Yahiko got the same, and Tae arrived promptly with two cups of steaming green tea. Yahiko slurped his down gratefully, stomach growling. Sano looked up at Tae.

"Busy day today, Tae-san?"

"Oh the usual, Sano." She smiled, but her eyes remained wide with concern. "Has Kenshin turned up yet?"

"Nah." Sano sipped his tea, trying to sound nonchalant. "But I'm sure he'll be home soon. Sometimes he goes off… doing important stuff… I dunno." Sano shrugged. He didn't think Tae was buying it, but there was no use in getting everyone all worked up. "You haven't spoken to anyone who's seen him around, have you?"

"I'm sorry, I haven't." The waitress paused, wiping her hands on her kimono. She seemed nervous. "But today I heard about something strange."

"Oh yeah?"

"There was a big fight just recently in the woods, just out of town. Fifteen men, all beaten, but not a single one killed."

"Sounds familiar." Sano raised his eyebrows. That just confirmed it. Something was _definitely_ up.

"Oh yeah?" interrupted Yahiko. "Whose men were they?"

Tae looked around, before leaning in. Her voice dropped. "They were from Shinzei's gang. Two of them came in late this afternoon. They looked like they'd been beaten pretty badly."

"Shinzei?" Sano raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Been a long time since I've heard from that bastard. Long time since I gave him a pounding…" He cracked his knuckles.

"And who beat them up?" Yahiko drowned the last of his tea with a noisy slurp.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch any more of their conversation." Tae bowed in apology.

"I think it's pretty obvious, who beat them up." Sano shook his head. "The only way to knock out fifteen guys without killing them all is with a sakabatou."

"So someone's messing around with Kenshin then…" Yahiko began, then stopped. "HEY!" he yelled, darting behind the screen which separated them and the customers next door. He reappeared with his arm around the neck of a thin young man, who was red-faced and gasping for breath. Yahiko was about to pound his head in, but Sano held up a hand.

"Wait, Yahiko. Let him go."

"But he was eavesdropping on our conversation! He's probably working for them!"

"Let him go." Sano put his hand on Yahiko's shoulder. The young man was trembling in anger. "Look at him. Do ya think this guy looks like the type?"

Yahiko looked carefully at the man, who was probably only a few years older than him. He was thin, almost to the point of being delicate, and wore glasses. The man eyed Yahiko warily, straightening his western shirt and trousers. "I'm sorry. I meant no harm."

"Oh yeah?" Yahiko was still suspicious. "What the hell were you doing then?"

"Actually, I am also looking for Himura… I mean, Kenshin."

Both Sano and Yahiko leaned forward in interest. "You know Kenshin?"

"Umm, sort of. Actually, it's rather complicated…"


	9. The Agency

"You mean to say… Kenshin's lost his memory? And he has proper swords?" Sano had turned very pale; Ryuji thought the tall man might even be trembling. "This is practically the worst thing that could happen." Sano shook his head again. "_Shit_."

"Um, where _is_ Kenshin?" Yahiko blurted, in between mouthfuls of rice.

"He left." Ryuji wondered how Sano and Yahiko could have such a healthy appetite at a time like this. He couldn't even begin to think about food right now. "I have been looking for him all day, and when I returned to the clinic, the doctor and your friend Kaoru were gone."

"Jou-chan was there?" Sano pushed away his empty bowl. "So she knows what's up then."

"We ran into her in the street." Ryuji's tone was apologetic. "She recognised Himura… but he had no idea who she was."

"Kenshin didn't recognise Kaoru?" The colour had also drained from Yahiko's face. "Man, that's bad…"

"We gotta find him!" agreed Sano. "Now from what I've heard, it sounds like Shinzei's got something to do with this. I'm gonna go over to his place and see what I can get out of him. You kids should stay here. Even though Shinzei runs around with a bunch of losers, things might still get a bit dangerous."

"No way!" Yahiko stood. "I'm coming, and so is Ryuji!"

"Uh, I guess." Ryuji wasn't so inclined to agree. "I'm not a very good fighter, though."

"You can come along, if you stay out of trouble." Sano made a face as he fished around for his coin purse. "Uh, this one might have to go on the tab…"

"Wait… who _is _this Shinzei anyway?" Yahiko was looking at Sano with a suspicious expression on his face. "How do you know him?"

"He's a dweeb." Sano gave up trying to pay the bill. "He used to try and suck up to me, back in my 'Zanza' days. Then he got involved with the Chou gang, doing petty little jobs for them. He started getting all uppity, thought he was a big man, and one day he came around to my place with three other guys. Apparently I owed them money or some shit…" Sano rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right."

Ryuji looked confused; Yahiko stared at Sano for a long moment, eyebrows raised. Sano glared back.

"Yeah, so what happened?" asked the young samurai.

"Well I kicked their asses, of course. I could tell he really had it in for me after that, but he was always too chicken to do anything about it." Sano smacked his fist into his hand, grinning. "Well, I guess it's time to get some information. This shouldn't take too long. You kids coming?"

"Of course. We gotta find Kenshin before something _really_ bad happens!" Yahiko grabbed his shinai. Ryuji nodded, slowly. He'd rather _not_ follow an eager young samurai and an ex-gangster into a dangerous situation, but he had to find the doctor. If he stayed out of the way, things would be all right. After all, this Sanosuke seemed quite sure of himself. Perhaps he would be safer with these two than on his own. At least they had something to go on, even if it wasn't much.

Sano called to Tae to put the meal on his tab, and they left the Akabeko in a hurry.

* * *

Their captors led them down a dark alley, and stopped. Kaoru froze. This part of town was very quiet, and dark. The surrounding buildings were all dark; she could not detect any sign of life. If she screamed now, perhaps no-one would hear. Their throats would be slit and the two men would disappear into the night.

_Kenshin, where are you?_

"Stand still." She felt the point of a sword pressed into the small of her back, oh so gently. "We're going to blindfold you."

"Don't worry, Kaoru." Doctor Yoshikawa smiled, surprising Kaoru. There was no way she would have been able to muster a smile in this situation. She fought back tears. The old man's sudden gesture made her think of Kenshin. "Things aren't as bad as they seem."

"Thank you." Kaoru closed her eyes as a strip of black cloth was tied across her eyes. It felt a bit too tight. Again with the sword in her back.

"Let's move," grunted the men, and Kaoru walked, blinded, disoriented. She could hear the slow steps of the doctor and his guard behind. Their procession was a strange one; silent, the two captives terrified. Kaoru felt the tension build until it was almost unbearable. Where were they going? What were these men going to do? Kill them? No; if that was the mission, they would already be dead.

_It probably has something to do with Kenshin. I wonder if these people were also behind him being attacked in the first place._ Kaoru shuddered, half in fear, half in anger. _How dare they?_

They didn't have long to walk, however by the time they reached their destination, Kaoru knew she would have no way of finding the same place in broad daylight. She didn't even know which district of Tokyo they were in anymore. They were led up a few steps, and into a building. She heard doors slam behind them. They walked further, into what seemed to be a room. Another door slammed shut. She was forced to her knees, and the blindfold was taken off.

"Ah!" Kaoru gasped, and she heard the old doctor do the same. The light coming from above was searing. She blinked away tears as her eyes adjusted to the stark surroundings.

They were in a small, white cell. Fixed to the ceiling was a large, incredibly bright light. The two captors stood at the back of the room, expressionless and silent. They had accomplished their mission and were awaiting further orders.

There was a large wooden table in the middle of the room. A man sat behind it, staring at them. He was thin, and his greying hair was receding. He was perhaps in his fifties, although it was hard to tell. He wore spectacles, and his eyes were two hard, glistening beads behind the thick lenses. Kaoru looked up, meeting his eyes. She held his gaze, forcing every ounce of what she felt; anger, shame, fear, frustration, into her expression.

The man smiled. "You are a brave woman, Kamiya Kaoru. Most women who get taken here are in tears by this stage."

"What have you done to Kenshin?" Kaoru stood, but one of the sentries appeared at her side, and she was pushed to her knees.

"Let me finish." The man with the glasses entwined his fingers and turned to Doctor Yoshikawa. "And you, doctor, are you not the most honourable example of a medical practitioner? To take in a cold blooded killer, without question, without objection. To treat his wounds and make him a guest in your own home! Those are most certainly the actions of a man who has no prejudice; who puts the lives of others before his own. Admirable, but stupid."

The doctor remained silent.

"You should have left him to die, Doctor Yoshikawa. That man has more blood on his hands than you will ever realise. Do you even _know_ what your patient has done? _Who _he has murdered?"

"Kenshin is not a murderer!" Kaoru shrugged off the guard's hand She wanted to punch this man in the face. "What do you want with him? What do you want with us?"

"My dear." The man stood, and Kaoru realised he was short and delicately built; even more so than Kenshin. "If we knew the whereabouts of Battousai, then we would have no need for the two of you. But of course, you already knew that, didn't you?"

The doctor looked at Kaoru, their eyes meeting for a split second. Yoshikawa's expression was one of surprise.

_Of course_, _he wouldn't know about Kenshin's past either_. Kaoru nodded, the tiny movement of her head almost imperceptible. _I suppose things must make a bit more sense to him now._

The doctor turned away. "I'm sorry, but you are mistaken. The Hitokiri Battousai disappeared after the war; he has not been seen for more than ten years. My patient's name is Himura Kenshin, and from my assessments, I can assure you that he does not display any of the characteristics of a psychopath; that is, one who would kill indiscriminately."

"An interesting diagnosis." The short man walked over to Yoshikawa; he stood close, so he towered over the doctor. "However, my intelligence reports are far superior to your 'psychiatric' hypothesis. We know, with absolute certainty, that Himura Kenshin and the Hitokiri Battousai are one and the same. Now if you will only be so kind as to tell me where he is, I will be able to forget this entire business, and you will be free to go."

"Who are you people?" The doctor stared up at his interrogator, not intimidated in the slightest. "Why are you after Himura?"

"I"m sorry, but _I_ am asking the questions. Where is he?"

"We don't know."

"What do you _mean_ you don't know? He's been staying in your house. You mean to say he just got up and left?"

"That's right."

"I don't believe you." The small man turned to Kaoru. "Listen Kamiya, if the doctor doesn't want to help me, then you had better be a smart girl and co-operate. Otherwise things will become much more difficult for the two of you."

"It's exactly as the doctor said." Kaoru shook her head slowly. "I don't know why you want to find Kenshin so badly, and I don't think I want to know. But it's true; we don't know where he is!"

The man sighed, and walked up and down the room, his steps slow and deliberate. He crossed his hands behind his back and bent his head, looking at his feet, as if he was deep in thought. Kaoru's knees began to ache; she wondered how much longer they would have to kneel.

"Take them for further questioning," snapped the leader, his cold, small eyes resting on Kaoru. "I warned you, and now things are about to get a _lot_ worse for you two."

"I can't believe this!" Kaoru struggled as she was hauled to her feet. "We don't know where Kenshin is." She paused, trying not to betray any hint of fear. "But he will come for us, you bastard. As he is now, I don't know what he will do to you…"

"So be it." The chief spread his hands wide, motioning for Kaoru and Yoshikawa to be taken away. "You are both very brave and honourable citizens, but our specialists have ways of dealing with people like you. You'd better _pray_ Battousai turns up soon."

Kaoru spat at his feet.

* * *

"So. What is it you want from me?" Kenshin had taken his swords from Shinzei's hands and secured them at his waist. His fingers itched; he wanted to draw steel and slice through the man then and there, but he would have to wait.

The young girl, Sasami, was dying.

"As I said, there is somebody I want dead." Shinzei stepped back as Kenshin rested one hand on the hilt of his katana. "His name is Hayashi. I'm surprised you don't know of him."

"Perhaps I do." Kenshin was giving away nothing. It was possible he had encountered this man in the past, but the name was not familiar to him at present.

"It doesn't matter. What matters is that the building you must penetrate in order to reach him is the most heavily guarded in Tokyo. If I'd been able to hire a hitokiri who was able to get to Hayashi, it would be already done. I believe only you have the ability. Hayashi has been a hindrance to me for many years."

"I don't care about your motives." Kenshin's mind had become still. Images of his past; the confusion, the anxiety of not knowing who he was... all turmoil was wiped away as he focused on his target, this Hayashi. He had a task; someone would die. A blanket of ice settled across his thoughts. No anger, no feeling. Nothing else mattered. "Tell me where I can find this man."

"Ah, but it is not so easy." Shinzei reached into his kimono and retrieved a small, faded photograph. "This is Hayashi. He is head of the _Makkura_, the government's most secretive intelligence division. Ordinary citizens would not have heard of them. What they do is extremely classified. Their methods are, shall we say…" Shinzei shrugged, "unscrupulous. I only know this thanks to a very talented informer." He handed Kenshin a small slip of paper, on which was written, in neat, precise characters; an address. "The place is guarded by skilled fighters, night and day. Many have been brought here for interrogation, over the years. Few have left alive."

Kenshin studied the photograph. It looked more than a few years old. The face did not trigger any memories. It was a plain face; the man had small, narrow features and black eyes which were deep-set, nestled behind thick lenses. A face and a name. That was all he needed. He would kill this man, and ensure Sasami received the antidote. Then Shinzei would pay dearly.

"He is always there in the evening," added Shinzei, passing Kenshin another slip of paper. "However, if you encounter any difficulties, this is where he lives. Be warned that his home is also very heavily guarded." Kenshin looked at the address, committing it to memory. He knew the area; it was home to Tokyo's elite. Now why had he remembered that fact so easily?

"I will send a few of my best men to help you…" Shinzei stopped. Kenshin was perfectly still, regarding him with a clear, golden gaze. Shinzei was nothing more than a fly; a nuisance. Kenshin would deal with him soon enough.

"I work alone," his voice was barely audible. Kenshin turned his back on Shinzei. "It will be done tonight."

"Good." Shinzei recovered his composure and smiled. "I expect nothing less of you, _Battousai_."


	10. Stealth

Kenshin found the building easily, slipping in and out of shadows as he ran through the streets. He found that the movement started to feel more natural, the further he ran. The tender muscles around his wound were beginning to loosen, and his arm no longer ached. He extended his senses, scanning the area for the presence of others. He avoided passers by with ease, switching to rooftops and back alleys where necessary. It was as if he had always belonged in the shadows.

_This feels very… natural. _He knew he had always done this kind of thing; moving quickly, with stealth. He made a mental note of the way he had come, in case he needed to make a quick escape. Alternative routes were mapped out as he ran; he did this automatically, much to his surprise. _Have I always been like this?_

The address Shinzei had given him was easy to find, given that it was on the outer edge of the city. The building was nondescript; a western style brick structure, grey and drab amongst warehouses and shop-fronts. Kenshin crouched on the rooftop and extended his senses, searching for any sign of life. Shinzei was right; the place _was_ heavily guarded. Behind the thick front doors there were two. He felt the complex auras of two accomplished swordsmen. In the rest of the building there were twelve. All of the guards were paired. That made a total of fourteen.

_Well guarded, but nothing I can't handle._ Of that he was certain. There were three more within the compound. Kenshin's eyes narrowed in surprise as he detected two very familiar kis.

_Kaoru? Doctor Yoshikawa?_ Kenshin opened his mind and caught an undercurrent of fear and anger. His hand dropped to the katana reflexively. _They are captives? _A torrent of rage threatened to explode inside him. _If any harm comes to Kaoru…_

Kenshin checked himself, astonished that he felt so protective of the girl. _Who is she to me?_

The third presence was so dull he could barely detect it. It was as if this person expressed no emotion at all. _Hayashi?_ Kenshin committed the aura to memory. The man's death was certain, but he would have to be careful. If Kaoru and the doctor were being held as prisoners, he would need to free them first. He wouldn't allow an innocent to be used against him again. He was already using his sword to fulfill someone else's wishes.

_But this is the easiest way._ Kenshin had considered forcing Shinzei and Yanako to produce the antidote for him - under duress - however, he probably would have had to deal with the rest of Shinzei's men in order to do so. He had no doubt that none of those men were even close to being a match for him, but that also meant he would have killed all of them. He did not want to kill any more than he needed to.

_Better one than many._

But what did he care? Shinzei had tried to kill him, and when that didn't work, he had manipulated him. If his men died, if Shinzei died… what was it to him?

Kenshin's skin crawled as he imagined the sensation of warm blood on his hands… again. He shuddered, utterly repulsed.

_What have I done in the past? How can the thought of killing come to me so easily… and yet I abhor it so much!_ He would not kill without good reason. Once he found a way into this building, he would take the sentries out one by one, silently, before they realised he was upon them. He would use surprise to his advantage. They were not expecting to be infiltrated.

Entering the building was his main dilemma. He most certainly couldn't go in by the front entrance. It was heavy, and guarded. If he sliced through the doors and burst through, his advantage would be lost. The men guarding that post would die. Kenshin decided he would like to avoid that possibility at all costs.

Where else could he enter? He narrowed his eyes, marking the dark outline of the hulking building. There was no side entrance; the headquarters were bounded by two other large buildings, probably warehouses or offices. The back entrance would be an option. Or, the top. The building was comprised of three levels, however only the rooms at the top and on the second floor had windows. It would be easy for him to leap across and prise one of those windows open. There were no sentries posted on the third floor. They expected any intruders to enter from the ground.

Kenshin took a few steps back and ran forward, taking off from the tiled roof. He landed softly on top of the warehouse adjacent to the headquarters. From there it was a simple case of making his way to the front eave of the building and dropping down onto a solid ledge. He tested the window, pushing against it firmly.

It was shut fast. No matter. Kenshin grabbed his katana, still in its scabbard, and made a quick forward thrust with the handle. The movement was so quick that it punched through the glass with a soft crack, leaving a clear, oval outline. Kenshin inserted two slim fingers and lifted the latch. The window was easy to open after that. He slid into the building, closing it behind him with a gentle push.

Blinking, his eyes became accustomed to the dim light. He was in some kind of office. There were three bare desks in the room. Along one wall were boxes of reports and files. These were of no interest to him. Staying close to the wall, Kenshin made his way into the hall, his senses stretched taut.

_There._ Two men were moving about on the floor below him. He didn't feel the intensity of a watchful aura. Instead, they seemed to be bored, completely off guard. This would be easy for him. Instead of going to them, they could come to him. He raised his sheathed katana and then tapped it against the floor. The crack reverberated down the hall. Voices floated up to him.

"Did you hear that?"

"Probably just a cat or something. You've been way too paranoid lately, Ozeki." One of the men laughed. Kenshin tapped the floor again.

"Didn't sound like a cat to me. I'd better go and check. It's coming from upstairs."

Kenshin pressed himself into the shadows as he heard steps. Someone was coming up the stairs.

Ozeki did not have time to reach the source of the noise, because in an instant Kenshin was behind him, digging his fingers into the man's neck. He pushed down firmly, waiting until the precise moment he should release the man.

_Two more seconds and he would have been dead_. As it was, Ozeki slumped to the floor, unconscious. Kenshin dragged his limp form to the side and waited.

"Hey Ozeki! What are you doing up there?" His companion was starting to become impatient. Kenshin tensed as another set of footsteps echoed up the stairs.

He dealt with the other man in the same way he had disposed of Ozeki. Kenshin left the two guards slumped against one another. They would not wake for a few hours, and by that time he would be long gone.

Now the second floor was empty. Shinzei had said this place would be heavily guarded, but Kenshin had already disposed of two sentries. Security was certainly not as tight as it had been ten years ago.

_Ten years ago?_ Kenshin caught glimpses of himself in another life, creeping through a darkened building, much as he was now. The guards had fallen, but not after a struggle. They had quickly become alert to his presence, and it had taken the sharp edge of his katana to still them. It was his speed which had bought their silence. Killing them had been the only option. And… it had been _easy_.

Kenshin made his way to the second floor, where the layout was more open that the third. It consisted of two large rooms, in which office desks were neatly arranged. Kenshin stood in the larger of the rooms, noting the large amount of space. An electric light was burning; he made his way to the wall and flipped off the switch. The room was cast into shadow, the only source of illumination being the moon, its pale sheen filtering through the high windows. Now Kenshin was in his element. It would be easy for him to stalk through the darkness, bringing swift death to these men with his cold blade. However, it was not necessary. He could stop them using lesser means.

The question of Kaoru and the doctor's captors was another problem. How would he deal with the ones he could not take by surprise? He would not know until the time came. It could not be helped.

Kenshin gathered his will and focused all his senses on the first floor. Of the fourteen guards, he had taken two. There were a total of twelve men downstairs. He did not wish to kill any of them, and judging from their auras, he wouldn't need to. They were all average fighters, except for two, who appeared much stronger. Still, Kenshin was not particularly worried.

_I don't want to kill them, but I will, if I must_. He would start by using his 'tapping' technique to lure as many as he could upstairs. Or better yet…

Kenshin grabbed the edge of one of the desks and upturned it. It hit the floor with a loud, wooden thump. In a short amount of time, four men appeared in the doorway, peering into the darkness.

"What the hell? Ozeki, Yamato, what are you doing? Why is it so dark in here?" The light was switched on, but it was too late. Kenshin appeared to the right of the group, wielding the sheathed katana. The man closest to the light switch was the first to go down, the weapon connecting with the base of his skull. Kenshin changed direction and swung it around, continuing the motion. The second man was hit on the side of the head. He slumped to the floor. Before the third man had a chance to react, Kenshin had given him a hard kick in the stomach. He collapsed to his knees, spluttering. Kenshin put him out of his misery with a lightning punch to the side of his neck.

_So apparently I know kempo, too? _This hand-to-hand style of combat was not his preferred mode of fighting, but it had been easy for Kenshin to take these men by fourth guard missed the wry expression in Kenshin's face, as he jumped back, drawing his sword.

"Who the hell are you?" he demanded. His eyes bulged as he stared at his fallen comrades.

"Drop your sword." Kenshin tucked his katana back into his obi.

"Are you kidding?" The guard looked at Kenshin, then back at the men on the ground. He raised his sword, determined. "I'm going to take you down."

Kenshin did not say a word as the man ran towards him, sword held high. Instead he disappeared, and was behind the soldier in a flash. He dropped to a crouch and spun, executing a lighting fast battoujutsu. The guard toppled, and fell to the floor, screaming.

"What the…?"

"Be silent!" Kenshin clamped a hand over his mouth and held it, until the man passed out. Blood was pooling next to the guard's ankles. Kenshin had severed the thick tendons attached to his calf muscles - partially, not entirely.

Kenshin gave his sword a sharp flick - a reflex so automatic it disturbed him - before sheathing it. He turned off the light and disappeared into the shadows.

The screams had attracted attention. Four more guards ran up the stairs. They found themselves in semi-darkness, confused, with no time to co-ordinate their attack. Kenshin met their drawn steel with his own, parrying a multitude of blows. The men fell back in surprise as the red-haired fighter disappeared in their midst. Kenshin materialised in front of one of the guards and punched him in the face, sending him to the floor. In the same instant, he gripped the sheath of his sword tightly and thrust it backward. It rammed into the gut of the man who had appeared behind him.

He spun and met two counterattacks; one with his katana, and the other with his wakizashi, held low. Kenshin did not want to draw blood if he could help it, but one of the guards retreated and then ran forward, trying to duck under his defences. The point of his sword was aimed directly at Kenshin's chest.

Again, Kenshin disappeared. The man looked around in confusion. His target had vanished. It was too late for him to move when he realised Kenshin was above him. Kenshin spun, slamming his feet into the ceiling. He came down like a cannonball, and at the last minute reversed his sword, burying the hilt into the man's skull. The guard gasped, the wind knocked out of him, before he dropped to the floor. One man was left.

"Drop your sword." Kenshin repeated, hoping this enemy would have the good sense to retreat. Shocked, the guard froze, staring at the seven limp bodies piled around him. It was all Kenshin needed. He appeared beside the hapless soldier and sent his elbow into the man's stomach. The man doubled over, spluttering. Kenshin took the opportunity to press his fingers into his neck, pressing on a vital point. The guard was unconscious within seconds.

Kenshin stepped away from the body, aware of the pain flaring in his shoulder. This style of fighting was much harder than it appeared; he was not at all comfortable with using his fists and scabbard in place of a naked blade. His hand ached from punching one of the men in the face. He had felt his nose crack under the impact.

Well, it couldn't be helped. He noticed that the man whose ankles he had sliced had stopped bleeding. Kenshin had known to avoid the major blood vessels by a few millimetres. The sentry would live, but there was a possibility he would not walk again.

_It couldn't be helped. He came at me with his sword drawn. _

Kenshin knew that in previous circumstances, he would have killed the man. A wave of disgust coursed through him. _It would be so easy…_

No time for that now. A strong sensation of terror emanated from the floor below. _Something bad is about to happen._ Navigating through the pile of bodies with nimble steps, he ran downstairs.

* * *

Sano, Yahiko and Ryuji walked through the streets, the doctor's aide barely able to keep up with the others. Sano was fuming, his thoughts already dark and becoming clouded with the implications of what had happened.

According to Ryuji, Kenshin had lost his memory. That meant he had no idea what had happened in the past few months. He probably didn't even know what he had done in the past. Even worse, he had demanded to have a pair of swords at his side. Not the sakabatou, which Kenshin usually favoured, but _real_, _killing_ swords. There was no limit to what might go wrong. Sano had seen the _other_ side of Kenshin; he remembered the day Saitou had confronted the rurouni in the dojo. Something inside Kenshin had snapped, and he had become the Battousai once again.

The look in Kenshin's eyes had been something else. Sano shuddered, remembering the flat, yellow glare. The eyes of a predator. Kenshin didn't deserve to go back to _that_.

Who was behind this? Sano's eyes narrowed. Yahiko was keeping up with him easily, but the doctor's assistant was lagging behind. Never mind. They didn't have much time. Sano clenched his fists, the anger building inside him. Was that _ahou_ Shinzei involved in this madness? He was about to find out.

They stopped outside the sturdy gates of a high-walled residence in one of Tokyo's seedier districts. Sano knew the area well; it was one he used to frequent. He held a hand up to Yahiko, noticing the wild look in the young man's eyes.

"Shhh," his voice was soft. "We're here."

"This is Shinzei's place? How are you gonna get in?"

"Just follow my lead." Sano walked over to the gate and banged his fist on the thick timber.

"Whaddya want?" A muffled voice snarled. "You ain't got an appointment."

"Tell Shinzei that Zanza wants to see him," yelled Sano, flexing his hands. "And I don't like to be kept waiting."

"Zanza?" The voice behind the gate changed to a tone of surprise. "I will inform Shinzei-sama."

"Your name is Zanza?" Ryuji had caught up to them, breathing heavily.

"It's a long story, kid." Sano rolled his eyes. A few minutes later the tall gates opened. A man with spiky hair stood there, staring at them. An unlit cigarette dangled from his mouth.

"Shinzei-sama will see you."

Sano walked forward, and Yahiko and Ryuji started to follow. The guard held up a hand. "Only you, Zanza. You never said anything about others."

"These two are with me." Sano ground his fist into his palm. "You going to stop them?" The gangster looked at Yahiko and Ryuji, then turned to Sano, who stared him down.

The man paused, looking away. "Fine." He chewed the butt of his cigarette. "But don't try anything funny or you're all dead men."

Sano laughed. "You can try." He paid the guard no further attention, striding through the entrance and across manicured gardens, not waiting to see if Yahiko and Ryuji followed. He made for the main building. "Shinzei!" he roared, "where the hell are ya? You owe me some answers!"

Sano heard footsteps, and orders being shouted. Shinzei appeared at the end of the garden, surrounded by six armed men. He smiled as Sano approached, arms folded casually.

"Haven't heard from you in a while, Zanza," he motioned to his men to stop, and made the last few steps alone, coming face to face with Sano. They men were of equal height, however Shinzei was the bulkier of the two. "I thought you would have done me the honour of a visit long before now. Have you been busy?"

"Quit with the bullshit, Shinzei. I am this close to breaking that ugly face of yours. Where the hell is Kenshin?"

Shinzei raised his eyebrows, surprised. "I had no idea you and Himura Battousai were acquainted, Zanza."

"Where is he?"

"Battousai works for me now." Shinzei looked far too pleased with himself. Sano shook his head at the notion.

"That's ridiculous. Kenshin would crush you like a bug. And he's _not_ Battousai… He's Himura Kenshin!"

"Says you." Sano could see the look in Shinzei's eyes; it was the same one he remembered. The bragging look. The man had always been way too cocky; too eager to boast about his achievements. _Smug bastard. _"There's no way on Earth Kenshin would work for a loser like you, Shinzei."

"Oh, I have my ways." There it was again, that insufferable expression. "That was your problem Sagara; you were always too honest, too direct. You've never been able to think outside the picture. It's why you're what you are now. What happened to the great 'Zanza'? You are _nothing_! You may be a dangerous fighter, but what good is talent if you cannot use it to your advantage? It's why I'm standing here, why Battousai is _working for me_!"

"Stop messing around!" It was too much for Sano. In a flash, he was standing in front of Shinzei, with one hand clutching the thin fabric of the gang leader's kimono. His other fist was clenched, ready to strike. "If you don't tell me where Kenshin is _right now_, I'm gonna Futae No Kiwami your ugly face into your ass. I'll ask you one more time: where the hell is he?"

Shinzei's self-assured expression collapsed. He had been at the receiving end of these fists once before, many years ago. Who knows what strange techniques Sagara had mastered since then? His men rushed forward, their swords drawn. "Stop," he choked. He couldn't bear the thought of another beating. Deep down, if he was completely honest with himself, he had to admit that he was still afraid of Zanza. "Fine, I will tell you where Battousai has gone." He shrugged, trying to appear in control, when in reality, he was terrified. "It won't matter anyway; by the time you reach him, he will already have carried out my orders."


	11. Interrogation

Doctor Yoshikawa sat on a chair, his hands and feet bound. One of the guards had dragged him into this room and slammed the door; the other had taken Kaoru. He clenched his teeth, hoping they would not harm the girl. His captor towered over him, casting a dark shadow as he stood in front of the bright light. _At least he's blocking out that horrid glare!_ The doctor's thoughts were scattered as the man delivered a hard fist to his abdomen.

"Ugh!" Yoshikawa coughed, feeling intense pain in his stomach. It radiated up into his chest, causing his breathing to become fast and laboured. _I can't take many more hits like that_. He tried not to think of what kind of trauma would be inflicted on his internal organs.

"You silly old fool," spat the guard, circling him. "If you just talk, things will be a lot easier for you - and the girl."

"I don't know where…. ugh!" Another blow to the midsection. Yoshikawa knew he would never convince the man he really _didn't_ know where Himura was. So what could he do? Lie? Make up a story? It would be a quick way to end the interrogation, but then what would happen to them? The doctor suppressed a shudder. He had no doubt about what happened to those who were brought here. They would not leave the building alive.

It was futile. The old man let out a low groan. Torture, pain, then death. These people were insane. Who knew such a thing could exist in peacetime Japan.

"You're mad," he croaked, hanging his head. A shock of pain shot up the side of his face as a rough hand grabbed his jaw, tilting his face upwards.

"You think this is bad," hissed the guard. "Trust me old man, there are _much _worse things I can do to you than a simple beating. Why don't you just confess?"

"Because there is nothing _to_ confess!" It was useless. These people wanted an answer; they would keep searching for it, even in places it didn't exist. He was forced to stare into his interrogator's eyes. Black holes; they burned with malice. The eyes of a fanatic.

True terror crept into Yoshikawa's heart. He had looked into the eyes of a man who had lost all sense of reason; a man who would follow orders without question. Who would kill without hesitation, if he were asked. For the first time in his life, Yoshikawa knew a horrible, empty sensation. He would die here, and he was powerless.

Had the Hitokiri Battousai's victims felt this kind of fear? Most probably...

The doctor had never gotten to the bottom of the enigma; the myriad of contradictions that was Himura Kenshin. If only he'd had more time. And now he and the Kamiya girl were suffering because of a bloody life lived out more than ten years ago. _Pain only brings more pain_.

Still, he couldn't bring himself to completely blame Himura. He did not know the true extent of what the man had done - of course, he had heard the stories - but he had seen enough of his patient to realise the man was suffering some kind of deep anguish. A fractured mind was not the easiest thing to heal, especially when the patient had more than likely been seriously troubled to begin with.

Yoshikawa's mind exploded in a haze of red agony as the chair was kicked out from under him. He felt his arms and legs being untied.

"Onto the floor!" He was pushed into a kneeling position. The guard grabbed his left arm and started to bind it to the top of the chair.

_What is this_… He couldn't focus. He felt pressure on his shoulders as he was forced to the ground. He was too weak to offer any resistance. His vision was interrupted by waves of black.

"As I said," Yoshikawa wasn't sure, but he thought he detected a hint of pleasure in the man's voice. "There are _much worse_ things I can do to you." For good measure, he kicked the doctor in the stomach. Yoshikawa doubled over in pain, stifling a scream. The guard walked over to the table and picked up what appeared to be long, slender bamboo splints.

_Oh Kami, no_. Yoshikawa knew very well what _those_ were used for.

* * *

Kaoru was determined not to cry. No matter what they did to her, she would not give them the satisfaction. Instead, she glared at the diminutive boss and his henchman. "You bastards," she spat. At that moment, she felt she wouldn't care if they died. Even if Kenshin appeared and sliced through them with his katana, she wouldn't blink an eye.

For that, she received a slap in the face. The guard struck her, leaving a red welt across one cheek. Kaoru felt blood stream into her mouth. Still, she kept her chin up, defiant. Tears filled her eyes, and she blinked, trying to will away the pain.

"Stupid girl." The leader took her chin in his cold hand and stroked her good cheek. "We don't want to have to ruin your pretty face too much. It would be such a shame."

Kaoru remained silent, her mind racing. What could she do? These people were convinced she knew where Kenshin was. But he had disappeared without a trace.

_Kenshin, where are you?_ The solider was circling her, his tall frame radiating menace. She knew this man would not hesitate to do her harm, even if she was a woman. He had probably done this kind of thing many times before. She shuddered.

"Where is he?" The director's voice was soft. The gentle tone was deceptive. "Just tell us, and we will let you and your friend go. You have done nothing wrong; why should you suffer for another's crimes?"

Kaoru did not believe him. Even if she did, she wouldn't betray Kenshin.

If Kenshin knew what they were doing, he would be here right now, memory intact or not.

A scream pierced the air. It was the doctor's voice, and he was in incredible pain. Kaoru stiffened. _What had they done to him? Make it stop; please make it stop!_

The director noticed her reaction. "A useful technique, one we learnt from the Chinese." His voice was devoid of any emotion. "It shouldn't take him very long. But if he continues to be stubborn, _you_ can end this, if you choose. Remember that."

_I don't know where Kenshin is! _Kaoru wanted to scream, but she remained silent, trying to force any trace of fear from her expression.

_He will come. Please, Kenshin!_ It was almost too much to hope.

* * *

Kenshin felt it; the distressed ki of a man who was in excruciating pain. Moments later, he heard the scream. It ripped through the silence, and he bound down the stairs at god-like speed. It was the doctor. Kenshin pinpointed his location just as two sentries appeared in the hall, their blades drawn.

_No time for this!_ A swift battoujutsu would take care of them; he could slice through in a two-handed manoeuvre and leave them for dead. His anger mounted. _You will not drive me to __**that**__!_ He gathered speed and launched himself upwards, his head missing the ceiling by inches. The guards stopped in shock as their target seemed to disappear into thin air.

It was the tiniest hesitation; any casual observer would not have noticed the slight pause in their attack. But for Kenshin, it was more than enough. He swung the scabbard wide, catching the first guard in the face. As the man fell, Kenshin planted one foot firmly across his head and launched himself. He met the second man with a vicious thrust. Two identical moves, in succession. The guards were down; Kenshin raced for the source of the anguished soul.

It was in a room; _there?_ No; to his left! The door yielded easily to his swift kick and he was inside. There was a man standing there; Kenshin met him, katana drawn.

* * *

A cloud of red burst in Yoshikawa's mind and he screamed. The first time, exerting great self-control, he had managed to remain silent. The second time was too much. He had never known pain like this in his life. He didn't think he could stand a third one. His torturer laughed and readied another sliver of bamboo. Blood streamed from under two of the doctor's fingernails, where thin, sharp stakes of bamboo had been pushed, tearing at the highly sensitive nerves. The doctor breathed deeply, trying to ignore the sensation. It ripped up his arm and he almost wished they would sever his hand instead. It would be better than _this_.

Another scream. Yoshikawa gritted his teeth and looked up, surprised to hear such a cry from his captor's lips. The guard stumbled backward, blood streaming down his face, blinded.

_What had happened?_ Yoshikawa's head spun, trying to register what he saw. From the corner of his eye, he could see a red and navy blur.

_What on Earth? _A flash of steel, and the guard was brought down. The man tried to stand, but was unable. He roared in pain. A spirit had danced behind him and sliced across his legs, severing the thick tendons behind the knees. An apparition, moving too fast for the doctor to see. Blood splashed across the floor, some of it spraying onto the doctor's face. He blinked, the pain forgotten for just a moment.

In that instant, the doctor saw a breathtaking thing; the art of killing perfected. In his life he had known experienced swordsmen; he had seen many battles, sometimes to the death. But never before had he seen the katana wielded with such grace. Master and instrument were as one, and it was _beautiful_.

"Himura?" Yoshikawa was mistaken; the guard was not dead. He felt a disturbing satisfaction as Kenshin kicked the soldier in the head, making sure he would not rise. Yoshikawa's pain served to fuel this sudden feeling of savage fury. From the amount of blood that was spilling, the doctor wondered if the man would live. At this point, he didn't really care. Whatever happened, the man would most certainly never be able to walk again.

Kenshin paused, regarding the doctor. It was only for a second, but Yoshikawa was startled to see that the man's face was a cold, still mask. It was only the eyes, amethyst shot through with that peculiar amber, which burned.

Strong hands reached under his arms, helping him up, placing him on the chair with slow, gentle, controlled movements. He cried out as pain from the bamboo stakes shot through his fingers.

"Forgive me, Yoshikawa-san." Himura was not even breathing heavily. Through the haze of pain, the doctor was astonished. Two days ago, the man had received a substantial gunshot wound in the shoulder. The doctor strengthened his resolve. If Himura could fight without betraying even the slightest hint of pain, then he too, would try and resist the urge to scream.

Kenshin looked down at the long stakes driven through Yoshikawa's hand. He seemed to tense, his eyes narrowed. The doctor could not describe the feeling which radiated from the swordsman. He had not known anything like it before. Himura's anger was flaring outward; as if the man could strike down enemies with his will alone. Yoshikawa could see that the bamboo torture bothered him greatly.

"Leave them." It was an effort to project his voice; the words came out faint and cracked. "These will need to be removed under anaesthetic." An urgent thought came to him. "Forget me, Himura! You must save Kaoru-san."

He looked up, but Kenshin had disappeared.

* * *

Kenshin leapt over the bodies sprawled in the hall, desperate to reach the other end of the building. His shoulder had started to ache badly, but he forced the pain to the back of his mind. His anger threatened to spill over. He was not sure what he was going to do. The sight of the doctor, bruised and in terrible pain, with those _things_ shoved beneath his fingernails, had pushed him to a dangerous level.

He had no doubt now that Hayashi was going to die.

With great effort, he ignored the rage and allowed his mind to be enveloped in a sea of calm. He needed to think clearly; he needed his movements to be swift, precise and disciplined, not tainted with this terrible emotion.

_Kaoru-dono_. Pray to Kami, they had not touched her. For if they had...

He was the arrow; the instrument. He would deliver justice.

He reached out, spreading his senses, trying to locate her distinct ki. His hand flew to the hilt of his sword as he received a torrent of emotions. Kaoru's aura was weak; he caught anger, fear and over-riding pain. Something had happened to her. They had dared to lay hands on her!

He reached for the blanket of calm, wrapping his thoughts in it. The last few streaks of violet disappeared from his eyes.

_Tenchuu_.

His sense of her was growing more faint. She was being carried away, through the streets, further from here. As he burst through the door, he found what he had already expected. The room was empty. Kaoru was gone.


	12. True Heart

Kaoru found it difficult to sit straight. Her hands and feet were bound, and she was being pinned down by a strong arm. Still she fought, writhing on the hard, wooden bench. They were in a carriage; the director sat at the front, his whip cracking, urging the horses faster. Kaoru kicked her bound legs.

"Be quiet, bitch," hissed her captor, giving her a painful push. Kaoru squirmed, and bit into his hand. Warm blood filled her mouth and the guard screamed. She was rewarded with a firm smack to the side of her head. "Fight back, will you?"

"You bastard," she spat. "You would hit a woman, who is bound? Coward!"

The man glared at her, but said nothing. Kaoru went still. There was nothing she could do. Back in the headquarters, when blood curdling screams had echoed down the stairs, they had dragged her out the back, bundled her into the carriage, and escaped. There had been swift and heated discussion between the boss and his remaining guard.

"I can take him," insisted the large man.

"You can't," the director had replied. "There is no way you alone could defeat him. He has already slaughtered all of them. I had not been expecting him to be able to find us. We need reinforcements."

Kaoru had gulped. _Slaughtered?_ The nameless intruder had been Kenshin; she was sure of it. Who else would be able to infiltrate a guarded building that fast? They had only heard a few screams, but the cries of pain had not lasted very long. Surely not… But his memory was gone, and he could have reverted to _that person_ by now.

Kaoru shuddered. The flat yellow gaze was one she could not forget. Kenshin had been a killer; there was no doubt about it. But that was a long time ago.

Could he kill again?

Kaoru wasn't worried about the welfare of her tormentors, but what would happen to Kenshin? The smiling rurouni she knew would most likely be destroyed. What would he do when he saw what they had done to her?

Kenshin's anger could be a frightening thing. If he bore a grudge, there was nothing that would stand between him and justice.

But what would be the nature of that justice?

"You don't know what you're playing with," murmured Kaoru, too softly for the guard to hear. "Stupid fools." She grunted as the carriage jerked from side to side. The road was becoming rougher, and they slowed, a little. She had no idea where they were. She was pushed from side to side, tossed about in the small carriage. As they lost speed, she was able to breathe once again. Her cheek stung from where she had been slapped, and her body ached.

If Kaoru survived, she would have many bruises to show.

Where were they going?

_To… kill me?_

Not yet. Most likely they would use here as a pawn; a bargaining chip, to try and manipulate Kenshin.

The carriage rolled to a stop, and there was an abrupt silence, save for the heavy breathing of the horses.

"We're here." The director's voice was soft. Kaoru blinked and saw moonlight streaming in through the carriage window. It was a bright night. The guard hissed and stretched his legs, stepping out of the small cabin.

Kaoru became very still. Where was _here_?

"Get her inside. Shinzei has enough men to protect us from Battousai."

_Fools_. They had no idea. Kaoru tensed as broad arms reached for her. Thick hands grabbed her waist. She felt repulsed. Struggling would only make it worse. She went limp.

And heard it; a soft thump on the roof.

_What was that?_

_Footfall. Any second now…_

There was a swift crack, and the hands grabbing her relaxed. Kaoru watched in mute fascination as the heavy-set soldier slumped to the ground. Then she heard it; the cold, steel hiss of a blade being drawn. With all her strength, she twisted, the violent motion sending the carriage rocking.

Someone appeared in her sideways vision.

Kenshin dropped from the roof with fluid grace, landing without a sound. His long, crimson hair danced about his face, framing pale skin and hiding his eyes. In the moonlight, he looked striking. Kaoru gasped at the blood splattered across his arms. It also stained his gi.

There was not much blood, but the sight of it on Kenshin made Kaoru's heart skip. Standing there with bloody hands, his sword drawn, Kenshin was transformed into a demon from the past.

_He looks like…_

Kenshin was in his element. He peered into the carriage, and Kaoru's breath caught in her throat.

It was the eyes; amber, flat, deadly. Terrifying eyes. He had become _that person_ again. The hitokiri gaze caught Kaoru's own for a second. She could not tell what he was thinking. Battousai took in her condition; the bindings, the bruises. His face did not change.

"Nothing you own should be tainted with blood," was all he said, before turning. He was going after the small, creepy-eyed boss.

The director stumbled back, fear etched into his features. "Stop," pleaded the small man. Kenshin continued to advance, his features blank.

"You are Hayashi," he stated, his voice a low monotone. "Though I bear you no grudge, for the sake of the new era, I must have your life."

"_What?"_ spluttered Hayashi. His hands had started to tremble. Kaoru thought she saw a dark patch appear on his western-style trousers. "New era? Have you gone _mad_, Battousai?"

Kenshin ignored him, raising his sword. "Let this be your _tenchuu_." His sword reflected the bright moon. Apart from the soft hiss of the wind, the night air was silent.

Kaoru knew this feeling. It was all too familiar. She knew, from the time with Jin-eh… she _knew _what would come next. He was destroying himself, again.

_No!_

It couldn't happen; not now, not after he had come so far. Kenshin had tried so hard to atone for his crimes. He was learning the meaning of happiness; of truly being alive. She could not let him lose that. He didn't deserve to… not again.

_Kenshin is still Kenshin_.

Kind, clumsy, calm, pleasant, noble Kenshin.

Who had been a killer.

Kaoru screamed.

"Kenshin!"

Twin voices mingled, and underneath her own, Kaoru heard Sano's deep tenor. She heard, rather than saw, her friends running towards them. Sano, Yahiko and Ryuji came into view. The three of them were panting.

"Kenshin," breathed Sano, his face slick with sweat. "What the _hell_ are you doing?"


	13. The Executioner

Silence.

Hayashi looked up at the cold-eyed assassin. His death was certain. The blade, held high, would come down at any moment, delivering a quick, killing stroke. There was nowhere he could run. Battousai was too fast. It was inhuman. On foot, he had caught their horse-drawn carriage with ease. Hayashi had not even detected his presence until they stopped, outside Shinzei's headquarters.

Hayashi was going to die. Himura's face was expressionless; implacable.

The blade quivered, Battousai's wrists appeared to tense. Hayashi marvelled that he could detect the most sudden, minute movement. Everything seemed to be moving slower than usual. Seconds became minutes. He was aware of his heart, hammering in his chest, and the rasp of his unsteady breaths.

This was it. Himura, still as ice, but wound tight like a coil, all grace and deadly precision.

_Kami, save me._

"Kenshin!" Two voices screamed at once. Battousai did not move; he kept staring at his target. Three young men arrived, breathless and panting.

"Kenshin, what the _hell _are you doing?" The oldest, and tallest of the three skidded to a stop and yelled, his fists clenched, as if he were ready for a fight.

Battousai did not flinch. "This is none of your concern." His voice was low and soft, but no-one missed the intent in those words. "Leave this place."

"The hell I will," argued the tall man, fire in his eyes. "Since when do you go around killing people again?"

Hayashi breathed out, watching for any hint of emotion in Battousai's features. There was none. _Except_… A flicker in his eyes; a faint change of colour, almost too small to be noticeable. Could it be… doubt?

"I am a hitokiri," was the reply. Hayashi shuddered. If there was a war of conscience going on inside this man, he certainly didn't let it escape into his voice. Cold as frost.

"You're _not_!" The Kamiya girl was still writhing about in the carriage. _She has spirit_, Hayashi admitted to himself, grudgingly. "Maybe you've done awful things in the past, Kenshin, but you're not that kind of person anymore!"

Himura did not turn to look at the girl, but Hayashi knew a sliver of his attention was diverted. He still didn't dare to move; that would be fatal, but it was interesting to note that Battousai was actually considering the girl's words.

"So," Battousai was still staring at Hayashi. "What kind of person am I, then?" The confusion was evident, but it was controlled, fashioned into a question.

Hayashi wondered. Why the queries? Was something wrong with Himura?

"You are…" The Kamiya girl was looking at Himura with large, frightened eyes. She was still bound, her hands and feet tied with thick rope, but she had managed to twist so that her head was in line with the carriage door. The guard was slumped in front of the vehicle; the horses twitched, sensing unease. "You are Himura Kenshin, _not_ Hitokiri Battousai!"

Still no reaction on Himura's face. Hayashi's eyes darted about, wild and eager, looking for any avenue of escape.

It was impossible.

There was a creak, and the heavy wooden gate to Shinzei's compound was pushed open. Men holding swords filed out, surrounding them. No-one moved.

"Oh, shut _up_!" And then Shinzei appeared, surrounded by his guards. In one hand was a black gun. Hayashi's fearful expression turned into a vicious grin.

"I was wondering when you were going to appear, Shinzei. It's time to finish what you failed to do, the first time round." Hayashi nodded towards Himura. "Kill him!"

Shinzei shook his head, a wry look on his face. "You still don't get it, do you, Hayashi?"

"_What?_" Hayashi whipped his head around to stare at the gang boss. "What are you talking about, you fool?"

Shinzei moved his arm, so that the muzzle of the gun was aimed at Hayashi's forehead. "It's not Battousai I intend to kill. It's _you_. I don't know why my hitokiri is hesitating with you; he seems to be a tad distracted. But I have been looking for a way to be rid of you ever since we made that 'agreement' five years ago. Do you think I _enjoy_ doing your dirty work, Hayashi?"

"I can't believe this," spluttered the director, his eyes traveling back and forth, trying to find a lifeline between the frigid stare of the hitokiri and the savage smile of the gangster. "You would… dare?"

"Of course I would. Your death would make my operations a hundred times easier. I would be able to do what I want, without worrying about you and your little 'organization' breathing down my neck. If I had been able, I would have sorted you out years before."

"You bastard," spat Hayashi. "I will make sure you rot in hell. My power stretches far beyond the organization. If you kill me, every law enforcement agency in Japan will be after your head."

"You're bluffing." Shinzei cocked the gun. "You've been bluffing ever since you contracted me to get rid of him." He gestured towards Himura, who still hadn't moved. "You knew we wouldn't be able to kill him."

"You should have finished what you started," retorted Hayashi. "Thirty men, against a lone swordsman. And it wasn't enough?"

"I had no idea who we were dealing with, at the time. Then again, if you'd told me, from the start, that we were to kill the Hitokiri Battousai, I would have taken an entirely different approach. It was _your_ poor judgement that led to this, Hayashi, and now it will be the death of you."

"But…" For once, Hayashi could not find the right words. It was true; he had exerted control over Shinzei for many years. In order to exert his influence in the lowest of places, he had manipulated Tokyo's most powerful crime syndicate into working for him. He had amassed a large amount of evidence against Shinzei which he could have used to destroy the gangster's empire at any time.

It had been such a convenient blackmail.

Shinzei hadn't been able to lift a finger against him, and Hayashi had put this knowledge to good use. It was one thing to have a highly organised and efficient intelligence agency at your bidding, but a yakuza boss was another level entirely. Killings carried out by government officials had the potential to draw suspicion and enquiries; with gangsters, there were no questions asked. There was nothing less suspicious than a yakuza murder.

Shinzei's gang had been the perfect tool. Of course, that was until they had encountered Battousai. It was one miscalculation Hayashi was living to regret. He had heard the stories, but he had discounted them as little more than exaggeration and myth. Surely thirty men would be able to dispose of the petite stranger with the flaming hair and the cross-shaped scar.

Evidently not.

He had seen no reason to divulge of the target's true identity. Usually a physical description was more than enough. After all, it wouldn't do to have all his hard-gained intelligence slipping through his fingers, and onto wagging tongues. He had no idea who Shinzei's men would be talking to.

Perhaps he should have warned them.

"You're going to die, right now," hissed Shinzei, the gun held steady. Hayashi had almost forgotten Battousai, who still hadn't moved. "If Battousai hesitates, then I will pull the trigger myself."

"Stop." Hayashi saw the intent in the man's eyes, and froze. Now he was the target of two killers. What chance did he have of escape? If Shinzei missed, Battousai's blade would surely fall…

There was a thud, and Hayashi was surprised to see that the Kamiya girl had manoeuvred herself into an upright position, so she was seated in the carriage.

"Kenshin!" she yelled, "don't listen to him! You're not a killer!"

"She's right!" The lanky fighter shouted, and ran to free the girl. "I don't know how that loser Shinzei got you into all this, but you can't let them get to you, Kenshin. It must be hell, not remembering anything, but deep inside you gotta know what's right and wrong."

Hayashi saw, for the first time, the confusion mirrored in Battousai's eyes. Something was definitely wrong. Why hadn't he picked up on it before? Himura… was having trouble remembering?

"Shinzei, listen to…"

It was as far as he got. There was a loud crack, and the smell of cordite filled the air. A hole appeared in the side of Hayashi's head, and he slumped to the ground, dead.

* * *

Kenshin had a vague awareness of voices, in the background. The tall man with the spiky hair and Kaoru were shouting at him, pleading with him.

_You're not a killer_.

It was true; he hadn't been able to kill any of the men he'd encountered thus far. Certainly he had wounded a few, but those were not life threatening injuries.

_Who am I, then?_ The movements which came to him with such clarity, the ease with which he wielded the sword, these were actions of someone trained to kill. But still, he hesitated.

_Why?_

He was aware of Shinzei, standing to the left, the gun in his hand. Kenshin felt a wave of repulsion. He had a savage loathing of those new, Western invented weapons. Guns made killing far too easy. They were ugly, artless things.

The man who kneeled before him wore an expression that was all too familiar. He was pleading for his life. How many times had Kenshin denied the pleas? Who was he, to decide whether a man lived or died?

Kenshin sensed it, but still he hesitated to move. His body was paralysed, his mind a maelstrom of conflicting thoughts. Shinzei had pulled the trigger. He knew it, and he couldn't do a thing about it. He felt the bullet, and _saw_ it as it crashed into Hayashi's skull, tearing through skin and bone, and exiting the other side of his face. The bullet was a sharp metal point, the force of a long blade concentrated into a tiny dot. It glistened and spun and burrowed into the man's flesh.

Kenshin saw it as if it were slow motion. He saw the man's eyes quiver and then the life was sucked out of them, leaving them blank, unblinking. Hayashi was alive, terrified, and begging for mercy. Then, he was gone.

It was nothing more than a second between life and death. Tissues, suffused with blood and energy, went limp. He crashed to the ground.

A human life, extinguished.

Kenshin had witnessed it before. He had felt it; the peculiar certainty that filled a man, just before death. The desperate begging, then the realisation. Then resignation. Then nothing.

The energy of the living would disappear. After that men became nothing more than useless flesh. Blood, bone and sinew would decay, and eventually disappear. The restless, pulsating energy of life, lost. Extinguished.

All too often, it had been his hand delivering the final blow. A decision, once made, that could not be reversed.

Death was final.

Kenshin saw Hayashi crash to the ground, and somewhere in his mind, a key turned. A sliver of light flooded in, and he knew it.

Death was final, and he did not kill.

Who was _he_, to make that decision? He was not justice incarnate. What right did he have?

Now Hayashi was dead. Kenshin had simply stood by and watched, unable to move. Or perhaps _unwilling_? He could have raised the sword and deflected the bullet. So he _had_ made the decision.

Kenshin lowered his katana in a steady, slow movement. He hesitated, eyes traveling over to Shinzei and the twenty or so yakuza who stood, staring at them, swords at the ready.

Shinzei wore an almost quizzical expression; it was as if he couldn't believe Hayashi was dead.

Behind him, Sanosuke had managed to untie Kaoru. Her face was very pale, and Kenshin noted with rising anger, the large bruise marring her features. But Hayashi was dead; that was more than he deserved.

Kenshin walked towards his companions, sheathing his blade. For the first time, his thoughts were steady, clear.

"Sumanai, Kaoru-dono," he murmured, his gaze capturing hers. "Sessha was not thinking clearly, that he wasn't. You are right, of course. I do not kill."


	14. Bound by Agreement

The crack of the gun had set Sano's nerves on edge, and he stared in horror as Kenshin's 'target' fell to the ground, a bullet hole dotting the side of his head. That was it; the poor guy was dead. Sano was surprised that Kenshin simply stood there, his eyes fixed to the man as he died.

He had seen Kenshin stop a bullet with his sword once before. Surely he could have done it again. But there was a strange expression behind those eyes; they were an unfathomable shade. Kenshin's face remained blank, but something in his gaze seemed to shift, and after a few seconds, he shook his head, having come to an apparent decision.

"I do not kill."

_Well good, Kenshin, at least you've got that bit figured out._ Relief flooded through Sano as he saw a glimmer of the Kenshin he knew. He had seen his friend torn between identities before; there were times when the good-natured rurouni disappeared, consumed by this 'other' person.

Battousai; Kenshin's killing persona.

Whatever had happened to him recently; the combination of memory loss and Shinzei's meddling, had stripped away so many of the defences he must have built over the last ten years, exposing the core. The hitokiri was still there, but Kenshin kept this part of his nature tightly reined. It was a choice he had staked his life on, more than once.

_Shame if it all went to shit now, just because of that ahou Shinzei._

Sano clenched his fists, the rage building inside him. He had known Shinzei when the man was nothing but a petty thief, and it irritated him that Shinzei was now seemingly in charge of a rather large yakuza outfit.

_But then again, Shinzei is __**exactly **__the kind of person who would make it in the underworld_.

A liar, a thief and a backstabber. You wouldn't trust him with your little finger. He'd find a way to chew it off, spit it out, and then make it look like _you_ owed him. How had he managed to get Kenshin working for him? The rurouni was one of the smartest guys Sano knew, and wouldn't have fallen for a simple trap.

_But then again, he has lost a good chunk of his memory. He'd be acting on instinct, not thinking things through_.

Shinzei had gotten to him, somehow. Throughout the years, it was clear the man had learnt his lessons and taken the meaning of 'cunning' to heart.

_But __**how?**_

Whatever, Sano wasn't intending to stick around to find out. This would end, _now_!

He strode forward, grinding his fist into his palm.

"Sano…" Kaoru uttered a warning, but Sano ignored her. His anger was packed inside him, pushed into a tense coil which was about to break. Sano lost sight of Kenshin; of Kaoru and the others. His gaze was trained on Shinzei, his muscles tensed.

"I am _so sick_ and tired of this bullshit," he snarled, reaching Shinzei. The gang boss was tall, but Sano matched him in height, and they were now eye to eye. "When are you going to stop manipulating people for your own ends, Shinzei?"

"But Sano-_kun_," Shinzei purred, his features betraying no hint of nervousness. The gun hung loose in his hand. "What exactly is the problem? This situation works out well for everyone involved, does it not? The thorn in my side has gone, the girl here," he gestured towards Kaoru, "gets to go free, and Battousai gets his end of the bargain. There's no problem here."

"Are you kidding?" Sano drew back his arm, ready to smash away the smug expression on Shinzei's face. He was surprised to find himself held back; an iron grip fixing his forearm into place.

"Sanosuke." Kenshin's voice was low, but Sano jumped. _When had he…?_

"Please, Sano, Shinzei is right. I wish to keep my side of the deal." Sano looked down and saw that Kenshin's eyes had turned a cold blue. It was a calculating look that spared no-one and nothing. But the words didn't match the intelligence in those eyes.

"What the hell are you saying, Kenshin? You can't make deals with someone like Shinzei. You will _always_ turn out the loser. He's got no honour."

Kenshin nodded, and dropped his hand, releasing Sano's arm. Sano winced as the blood started to flow back into his limb. "That may be so," he agreed, "but there is more at stake now than worrying about honour." He turned to Shinzei; the yakuza still wore a slight smirk. Sano itched to wipe that expression into bruises and broken bones.

"Shinzei, you made a deal with me, and now I expect you to keep your promise." Kenshin had sheathed his katana some time ago, but the tone of his voice set Sano's hairs on end. Shinzei had no idea what he was messing with.

_If he toys with Kenshin now…_

Kami help him.

"Deal?" Shinzei raised his eyebrows in mock recognition. "I do remember entering into an agreement with you, Battousai. In return for _killing_ Hayashi, I would spare the life of your pet girl."

Sano froze. _Girl_? There had been no mention of a girl before. So Shinzei had a… hostage? That would explain why Kenshin was so willing to go around doing his bidding. What the hell was the man playing at?

"But in the end, I had to clean up the mess. I don't know why you hesitated at the critical moment, but perhaps you are getting soft in your old age. The Bakumatsu _was_ over ten years ago, after all." Shinzei shook his head. "So really, I have no obligation to prepare the antidote, and spare the brat. You should have thought of that, when I pulled out this gun."

Kenshin said nothing, just waited, his eyes trained on Shinzei.

"_You_ broke the deal, Battousai, so I don't owe you anything." He was waving the gun around now, and Sano thought he saw a glimmer of fear in those narrow eyes.

_Now why would he be scared?_

Kenshin kept looking at Shinzei, his stare merciless and piercing blue. "I'll give you one last chance," he said, and his voice was so cold that Sano almost took a step backwards.

"That was the agreement," blustered Shinzei, his facade beginning to crack. "You kill Hayashi, we save the girl. It hasn't been adhered to."

Kenshin was angry, and Sano knew it. Shinzei knew it. He raised the gun, his hand trembling. The hollow point of the muzzle was a black, wavering hole. Kenshin stared it down.

"There is no antidote, is there, Shinzei?"

"It doesn't matter; you didn't stick to the plan." Shinzei took a deep breath and steadied himself. "So you don't get to save the little girl. Big deal. Why the hell would Battousai care about some sniveling little brat anyway? You're not the hitokiri they speak about in those rumours; you're weak. Get out of my sight before I shoot you."

_You idiot, Shinzei_. Sano dodged back as Kenshin's arm shot out, faster than he could see. He hadn't received any warning save for the tiniest shift in Kenshin's eyes; there was the smallest trace of amber there.

Kenshin's fist smashed into Shinzei's face before the gangster realised what was happening. The tall man crashed to the ground, the gun falling from his hand. Kenshin's other arm snaked out and he caught the weapon in his palm.

All this happened in less time than it takes to draw a single breath. Kenshin uncocked the pistol and removed the cartridge. His features revealed disgust. He threw the weapon to the ground and placed one hand on the hilt of the katana, his expression menacing.

Sano knew this glare was mostly for show. The other yakuza had gathered around them, shocked at seeing their boss fall. But behind their bravado, Sano could detect fear. They were holding onto their swords, but they were scared to draw. He suspected they had never seen Shinzei brought down, let alone this easily.

_Cut the head off the snake, and the body doesn't know what to do_.

"Oi, clear out," he growled, taking advantage of the situation. "Or Kenshin n' me are gonna wipe the floor with you idiots."

Two of the men advanced, their faces set in grim determination. Sano took a step forward as one of them began to draw his sword. He stopped with half the blade exposed.

"You really wanna try it?"

"You're going down!" The gangster rushed forward, completing the draw, but with the blade already part way out of its sheath, he was slow. Sano's fist caught him in the side of the chest, and the sword clattered to the ground. Kenshin stood behind, and Sano resisted the urge to wince as he felt the swordsman project his ki.

He didn't even send out the full extent of his aura, but it was enough to turn a few of the men pale-faced. They weren't trained fighters, so they had no idea what that sudden 'feeling' was, but it sent a wave of uncertainty through the yakuza.

"Bring the girl," commanded Kenshin. The men hesitated. "_Now!_" And then two of them were running to the gate. The others did not move. The slumped form of their boss told them all they needed to know; they were without direction.

"Kenshin," Sano was confused. "They have a hostage?"

"She's been poisoned. We don't have much time." Kenshin's eyes narrowed a fraction as one of the henchmen appeared, with a young girl in his arms. She couldn't have been more than ten years old, and Sano saw she was pale, her black bangs matted to her forehead with sweat. The child's gaze was half-lidded; she didn't seem to be entirely there. It was as if she already had a foot in the next world.

_That bastard Shinzei, do do this to a __**kid**__?_

Behind him, he heard Kaoru gasp. Then the other kid, Ryuji, was beside the girl, taking her into his arms. He lowered her gently to the ground and placed a hand on her forehead. Then he pulled down her lower lids, examining the underside of her eyes. He checked her tongue, and felt the pulse at her wrist, and her neck.

"She… she doesn't have much time," stammered the doctor's assistant. "There is a chance she might live, but she needs medical assistance, _now_!"

"I will take her." Kenshin lifted the young girl, her body limp and lifeless in his arms. "Sano, please go to this location," he fished a bloodied scrap of paper from inside his gi, "and find doctor Yoshikawa. He is safe, but there are a number of men there who may also need medical assistance. It will be quicker if you go via Nihonbashi."

"Okay, but what are you going to do about the girl?"

"Sessha has… some experience with poisons." Kenshin had reverted back to his normal mode of speech. "There are some things that may increase her chance of survival. Ryuji may be able to help."

"Why don't you take her to Megumi?" Yahiko had appeared beside them, his face etched with concern. "She knows all sorts of drugs and poisons and stuff. Remember when she cured me?"

Kenshin's expression was blank as he turned to Yahiko. "Who is this… Megumi?"

"She's a doctor, Kenshin." Kaoru's voice was gentle, and full of worry. It seemed Kenshin hadn't regained _all _of his memory. Perhaps Megumi could also help with that. "She's treated you many times."

"Sumanai." Kenshin softened as he turned to face Kaoru. "Sessha's memory is still not… the best."

"Megumi is probably the one best qualified to deal with this, Kenshin." Sano was surprised to hear the respect evident in Kaoru's statement. The younger girl was usually driven to irritation by Megumi's gentle teasing.

Kenshin nodded, coming to a decision. "Sessha trusts you with this, Kaoru-dono. We will take Sasami-chan to Megumi-dono. Where is her clinic?"

"Uh…" Kaoru hesitated; Sano could tell she was afraid to find out how much Kenshin actually _did_ remember. "Do you know where the Kamiya dojo is?"

Kenshin nodded, and Kaoru appeared relieved. "Good. Well, if you get to the dojo, and go two blocks to the east, then turn right and keep walking, you'll come to a soba stand. Here you turn left. Megumi's clinic should be easy to find. Just look for the sign." Kaoru paused. "But Kenshin, we'll go with you anyway, so…"

Kenshin held up a hand. "Sorry Kaoru-dono, but it will be faster if sessha goes alone."

"Huh?" Kaoru's mouth opened wide. Sano shot her a glance before she was able to protest.

_Let him go, jou-chan_. He knew Kenshin could reach the clinic in a third of the time it would normally take them. The man had the advantage of his god-like speed, after all. Kaoru closed her mouth and nodded, her eyes wide as she took in the girl's state. Sasami was breathing rapidly, and her fingers appeared to have taken on a bluish tinge. That was _definitely_ not a good sign.

"I'm going." Kenshin turned to glare at the yakuza, who seemed to have halved in number since their boss went down. No doubt, a few of them had already slunk back to the shadows. "But don't think I'm finished with you yet."

"You bastard!" One of the men rushed forward, sword drawn, but Kenshin was already gone. Sano blinked and looked up, only to see his lithe form disappearing across the rooftops. He stepped aside and heard a satisfying crack as his fist connected with the yakuza's ribs.

"Idiots," spat Sano. "Do you never learn?"The man fell to the ground, unconscious. The rest of the gangsters did not dare to move. Sano shot them a dark glare.

_Backstabbers, cheats, weaklings. You're all so tough when you've got your boss doing the dirty work, but when it comes to sticking up for yourselves, you got nothing. What are you gonna do now?_

They were wasting their time here. Sano motioned to his friends. "Jou-chan, Yahiko, Ryuji, let's go."

None of the yakuza lifted a finger as they turned the corner, leaving Shinzei slumped, lifeless, in the middle of the street.


	15. Trust

Kenshin forced his legs to move faster, not caring that he made the occasional sound as he sped across the rooftops. This was no time for stealth. He could feel Sasami's life energy dimming, and knew she was on the brink of death. Her body was so light; her face pale in the moonlight. There was barely a heartbeat. This child was slipping into the next world.

_I will __**not **__let it happen!_ With all that had happened in recent days, he knew he could not let Shinzei get away with _this_ murder. Sasami was an innocent, dragged into the battles of those who sought power; those who manipulated others for their own ends. Kenshin knew his involvement in this situation had been brought about by the overwhelming force of his bloody past. And there were others who had become entangled and swept up in the murky currents. The details were not yet entirely clear, but as he ran on, as night stretched into morning, the memories were returning.

_Tomoe, my love._

Like a thunderclap, it was all there, and he could not understand how he had forgotten such a thing. She was sewn into him, stitched tightly and buried so deep he had no hope of ever entangling her. Not that he would ever wish to.

Oh, there was a lifetime and more of hurt, but this did not surprise Kenshin. He had felt it from the beginning; the guilt and unease that had become embedded so deeply into his very being. _Irreversibly_. Such notions were not unfamiliar; they were a part of him. It explained only too well the sense of loss and discontent he had felt, even without his memories.

But there was something else, as well. Kenshin recalled the fierce determination in Sano's voice.

_What the hell are you doing?_

That tone; the outrage, it resonated so deeply within him. He remembered Kaoru, bound yet defiant, pleading with him.

_You're not that kind of person anymore!_

They had brought him back, but not with clear logic. No, these people had a deeper power over him, something Kenshin was at pains to understand. Glimpses of another kind began to surface; he recalled something that had only become familiar to him in the last few years. There was laughter there, and lightness. The pain and guilt could sear like coals; the feeling would never entirely disappear, but there was something else too, pushing that darkness backwards, into a small recess in his mind. If he wanted, he could lock those memories away. It was _allowed_.

_Why? You don't __**deserve**__ to forget!_

Forget? No, he would never forget. But there were those around him who had seen, heard, and judged him accordingly. They accepted him, regardless of all he had been, and who he had become. For this, he felt calmer; anchored.

It was reassuring to have found some meaning in this reality.

* * *

Megumi's eyes snapped open. There it was again; a short, sharp tap on her shoji.

_But who?_ She sat up and pulled the yukata tightly around her, pushing the hair from her eyes. If they were tapping on her shoji, it meant they had gained access to the rear of the clinic. An intruder? The light from the outside lantern flickered, revealing an indistinct shadow through the paper walls. Heart hammering, she disregarded her fear and yanked the thin screen across, hoping to intimidate whoever was on the other side.

"Ken-san!" she exclaimed, eyes widening. "What…?" Megumi's voice trailed off as she noticed the young girl, lying limp in Kenshin's arms. At first Megumi thought the child was dead, but the urgency in Kenshin's eyes told her otherwise.

"Please, Megumi-dono, she doesn't have long!"

"What happened, Kenshin-san?"

"She's been poisoned with night-blossom."

Megumi went cold. This was an agent she had not encountered in a very long time; it was usually the tool of assassins, favoured because its effects occurred slowly, over hours. It was the perfect drug for making it appear as if one had died in their sleep. In its later stages, the heart would drop to an abnormally slow rate, as would respiration, until both ceased. There were many questions on her lips, but Megumi bit them back. She would need to mix the antidote quickly.

"Bring her to the treatment room, Ken-san." Megumi tied up her sleeves. "I need her on the bench."

Kenshin turned and hurried down the hall. Megumi grabbed the lantern and followed close behind. She ran her fingers through her hair as she walked, pulling out knots and tangles. They entered a small room at the rear of the clinic, and Kenshin was gentle as he placed the young girl on the examination couch.

Megumi rushed to the side of the room. She set the light beside her and began to open various drawers. A small pile of neatly wrapped powders started to accumulate. At last, her long fingers found what she was looking for; a small vial of _azumamaya_ sap. It was incredibly rare, and she had never been more glad to have it.

She poured a few drops of the milky-white liquid into a mixing bowl and began to add the powders, in varying amounts.

Her hand was shaking. She took a deep breath and willed it into steadiness. She could not afford to do this incorrectly.

Beside the girl, Kenshin stood, unmoving. Megumi saw him put two fingers to the girl's neck, feeling for her pulse.

"How is she?" The antidote was ready. She transferred the mixture to a Western-style glass syringe.

"Her heart is weak, and slow." The worry in Kenshin's voice was evident. He placed one hand on the girl's forehead and then drew it back across her hair. The tenderness of that small gesture surprised Megumi.

"Don't worry, I'm almost finished here." Megumi unwrapped a long needle from its tight paper package and screwed it onto the syringe, taking care not to contaminate the end. She threw a length of cloth to Kenshin.

"Tie this around her upper arm; I need it to be _tight_."

Kenshin nodded, and Megumi was relieved to see that he had applied exactly the right amount of pressure as he tightened the knot. Now more than ever, she was glad for the rurouni's level-headedness. In spite of his tendency to act the fool, he really was quite observant. She sensed that Kenshin had been in this kind of situation before.

_Well of __**course**__ he would have. Megumi, you fool! _

Sometimes, she forgot.

"Can you hold this near, so I can see?" She handed Kenshin the lantern, and with her free hand, felt around the girl's inner arm, just above her elbow. The vein was flat; she could barely feel it, but it was there. Megumi smacked the vein, to irritate it and make it more prominent. Then she knelt and pushed the tip of the syringe just below the skin. She pulled back, and a small amount of blood swirled into the barrel.

_Got it. _

Megumi took a deep breath and injected the contents of the syringe. Slowly at first, and then faster, as the blood vessel opened up. She withdrew the needle and placed the empty instrument on the table.

"It will take a while." She looked at Kenshin, who held the lantern close, illuminating his pale features. For the first time, Megumi noticed the tired shadows under his eyes. There was a look about him that was almost haunted. And all this time, he had not moved his fingers from underneath the girl's jawline. He was still monitoring her pulse.

"Megumi-dono," he whispered, his voice cracking.

"What is it, Kenshin-san?"

"I can't feel her pulse."

"No…" Megumi placed her fingers across the child's carotid artery. She felt nothing. Were they too late? As she looked up, she saw the set of Kenshin's features shift. Gone was the expression of worry, replaced by a hard, implacable stare. She steeled herself.

"I will _not_ let her go!" Megumi pulled the folds of the girl's kimono aside and made a fist. Concentrating all of her strength, she hammered it into the child's sternum. Kenshin stepped back in shock.

"Wha…?"

Megumi held up a hand, placating the swordsman. She knew what she had done looked brutal, but there really was no other option.

"Just wait." Again, she felt for the pulse.

There was nothing.

And then, so soft she thought she was imagining it… A single trace of life. And then another, and another.

The heartbeat was weak, and slow, but it was there.

"She's alive." Megumi exhaled, long and slow. Her arms felt weak; her legs threatened to topple. She wanted to sit down. "I think the antidote has started to work."

Kenshin set the lantern down and once again smoothed the hair from the young girl's brow. His fierce glare had softened. "Is she…"

"She should be all right now. Once the medicine takes hold, the effects of the poison will start to disappear. My biggest worry was that her heart would stop. That was why I had to hit her in the chest. It _had_ stopped."

"I see. Thank-you, Megumi-dono." Kenshin inclined his head in a grateful bow. "Without your help, I don't think Sasami-chan would have survived."

"She is incredibly lucky." Megumi noted with relief the rise and fall of the girl's chest. "However, she is not in the clear yet. I will need to sit with her through the night."

Kenshin nodded, his face etched with concern. For the first time, Megumi noticed the twin daisho hanging at his waist. She felt the colour drain from her face. What had happened to him?

"Kenshin-san, where is your sakabatou?"

"I… I seem to have misplaced it." His hand dropped to rest on the katana's tsuka, fingers curling around the diamond-patterned hilt. It was a gesture of absent thought.

Megumi grew very still. "Misplaced?"

As if receiving a cue, Kenshin raised his hands. He must have been aware of the chill that coursed through her. "No, not like that! Please do not worry, Megumi-dono. This one has not reverted to his old ways."

"I'm glad." For to see Kenshin go back to killing would have broken Megumi's heart. She had seen what he had been through, to uphold his vow. The right path was not always the easiest. Some of his injuries she had treated over the past months had not been slight, and she wondered how many he might have avoided, had he used the sharp edge of his blade. "But… Ken-san, you seem to have had an eventful night. What has happened?"

"A lot has happened, Megumi-dono. " As Kenshin started to explain, Megumi's eyes widened, and she could not stop glancing at the young child, who was now in her care. The girl's breathing had become deeper, a reassuring sign. But Megumi could not fathom _why_ anyone would want to poison her. She realised, with surprise, that her hands and knuckles had become white, from being clenched so tightly.

Her eyes travelled to Kenshin's face; his expression was not one of a man who had suffered amnesia just hours before. But then again, Kenshin had always been one to keep his concerns well concealed. Megumi didn't have much hope of ever being able to read him well. She wondered if she was being given a watered down version of events.

Still, it had been a busy night for Ken-san.

"Where are they?" Sano's deep voice echoed through the clinic. He sounded frantic. Megumi sighed, and was surprised at the small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. The rooster-head's concern warmed her heart.

"Ken-san, go and talk to them. I need to stay here. And perhaps it would be best not to have such a crowd in here just yet."

He nodded, and Megumi saw his expression soften as he took one last look at the girl. Over the last few minutes, a little more colour had returned to her face. Megumi noticed that her tiny fingers no longer held a bluish tinge. Seeing _that_ had terrified her.

When she looked up, Kenshin was gone.

* * *

"What happened, Kenshin?" Kaoru almost collided with him as she strode down the narrow hallway, breathless. "Where is the girl?"

Kenshin offered a weak smile and Kaoru skidded to a halt, with Sano, Yahiko and Ryuji close behind. In Sano's arms was Doctor Yoshikawa, bruised, battered and unable to walk. But conscious. The old man even tried to offer a reassuring smile as Kenshin's eyes became wide with concern.

"Yoshikawa-san!" He gestured for Sano to follow him, and they disappeared into the back room, in search of Megumi. As Sano pivoted, the doctor's grimace of pain did not escape Kaoru. They heard a commotion, and hushed voices, and then the two returned, Sano restless and Kenshin composed. Well, as much as he could be.

"Megumi-dono has given him medicine for his pain. She will take care of him."

Kaoru noted the rurouni's pale, drawn features and the weariness in his expression. However, his gaze was calm.

"That's good. But… what about Sasami-chan?" Kaoru had almost been afraid to ask the question.

"She is resting."

"Is she gonna be okay?" Yahiko was panting, his eyes wide.

"She will be fine, Yahiko-kun." Kenshin was looking at the boy with affection. Kaoru felt the tension in the air disappear. Seeing the look on Kenshin's face was enough to let her own worry evaporate. He seemed a lot _better_ than before.

Without realising, she moved forward, placing a hand on his shoulder. She winced in surprise, feeling the thick wad of bandages underneath. He had been fighting all night and he was _hurt_. She had almost forgotten.

"Kenshin, are you okay?" She wanted to hear him say her name; she wanted him to be _normal_ again.

But Kenshin had always been anything but normal.

Unbidden, the words slipped from his mouth. "Kaoru-dono." It was the best thing she had ever heard. Although he looked tired, Kenshin still had the energy to summon a reassuring smile. "This one had an accident; a somewhat nasty bump to the head. For a few days, things were a bit… muddled. But memories are not things one can so easily discard. Don't worry, I will be fine."

"Damn straight you'll be fine," interrupted Sano, "because if you ain't, I'm gonna have to knock some sense into that thick red skull of yours. You went really close to losing it, y'know."

"Sano-san…" Kaoru saw Ryuji's face turn white as he looked back and forth, torn between Sano and Kenshin. The young man appeared nervous, and she could well understand that; after all, he had been responsible for Kenshin's care over the last few days. He must have had a few nasty surprises.

Kenshin laughed. "I hope you do, Sano. The last thing this one wishes to do is 'lose it' all over again."

"Good." Sano crossed his arms, satisfied. Beside him, a slow puff of relief escaped Ryuji.

"But there one last thing I need to do before morning." Kenshin's eyes, shadowed in the dim light of the hallway, became distant. "I may also need a little help."

"What did you have in mind, Kenshin?" Sano cracked his knuckles, a savage glint in his eyes. "Are we gonna go and whoop some more yakuza ass?"

"Not quite."

"Huh?" Sano shook his head. "But Shinzei is absolute scum! You saw for yourself. You can't let him get away with poisoning a freakin' kid! Anyway, if _you_ won't do it, I have half a mind to…"

"Sano!" Kaoru restrained the taller man, noticing the sudden change in Kenshin's demeanour. "Just relax a little. Kenshin hasn't finished."

"You're right, Sanosuke." Kenshin shot a grateful glance in Kaoru's direction. "Shinzei and those who follow him _are_ scum. But going in and beating them up isn't going to dissuade them forever. If he falls, there will always be another to take his place. Unfortunately, this is something I seem to have learnt the hard way. Which is why I want to ask Kaoru-dono to report tonight's incidents to Chief Uramura. Ryuji and Yahiko, you'd better go with her. That way, there will be enough witnesses." Kenshin looked at Kaoru, who raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"You want me to report this to the… police?"

"_What_?" It was Sano who was most surprised. "But you've never gone to them in the past. Who says they're going to be able to arrest all of them anyway? They might not seem like the most organised bunch, but most of those cops ain't any better when it comes to fighting…"

"Oh, they will arrest whoever they need to, believe me." For the first time, Kaoru became aware of the strong undercurrent in Kenshin's voice. She hadn't heard it before, because he had donned the rurouni's mask. But it was most certainly there. And of course, with a young girl lying in the clinic, having narrowly escaped death, why wouldn't he be angry?

"And for that, Sanosuke, I will need your help."

"Oh yeah?" The rooster-head was finally listening. Kaoru suppressed a sigh.

_Stupid Sano, don't you know Kenshin well enough by now?_

She understood Kenshin's reluctance to resort to brute force in this situation. After all, isn't that what he had been trying to avoid all these years? Of course, in some situations it would be inevitable; violence seemed to trail Kenshin despite his attempts to live without it. And he was right about old criminals being replaced by new ones; there was always someone out there trying to make a name for himself. But at least they could start trying to do things the right way.

Still, she couldn't help but be curious about exactly what Kenshin had in mind. The slivers of amber dancing in his clear, blue gaze told her he didn't entirely trust the police to dispense justice, either.

"I'll tell you on the way." Kenshin inclined his head and Sano followed him. "Don't worry, Kaoru-dono. We will be back soon. Get Uramura, and tell him to arrange some backup. You know where Shinzei's dojo is."

"Sure, Kenshin." Despite her relief, Kaoru could not help staring at the daisho which had replaced his usual sakabatou. She remembered the glint of the blade as Kenshin had held it, and the confusion in his eyes. He had been so close to slipping…

_Silly, Kaoru. He wouldn't do such a thing. He told you himself. _

That was good enough for her.

* * *

**Author's note:** Ugh. I finally managed to get around to updating this. So sorry to anyone who is still bothered to follow the story. I just got sidetracked. And busy. The problem I find with this fic is that I started it so long ago and I feel my writing style and interests have changed since then. But I'm determined to finish it nonetheless.

Gotta finish what you start, eh? I've banned myself from embarking on any new 'long' stories until I finish the ones I've already started. Forgive this highly distractible wretch.


	16. Downfall

They ran through the streets, and Sano was breathless by the time they crossed the river. After a few blocks, Kenshin slowed to a walk, and Sano was grateful for the respite. Although the rurouni had been busy all night, he still had the advantage of his unnatural speed.

"So what's the plan, Kenshin? We gonna pummel some yakuza butt?" Sano forced his breathing to slow, and cracked the stiff joints in his neck. "I'm ready, if you are."

"Not exactly, Sanosuke." Despite his rapid pace, Kenshin turned to face him. Sano noted the thin, grey shadows under his eyes. A subtle weariness had crept into the swordsman's features; Sano knew he had seen this kind of thing so many times before. "The problem with a situation like this is that the kind of justice we are used to only lasts for so long."

"I know what you're saying." Sano cocked his head, considering the truth in Kenshin's statement. For every selfish, twisted, self-serving bastard they fought and beat down, another would rise. "But they almost killed that girl. There's no way I'm gonna let that go by."

"I can't let it pass either." Kenshin pace had become even more sedate. Sano noted that his friend was not even breathing hard. Well, it was Kenshin, so it figured. He never gave away much; he could be in agony and one would never be able to tell. It was a trait Sano envied, and yet it also infuriated the hell out of him. Hearing Kenshin speak now, one would never think he had been injured, lost his memory and spent all night trying to sort out the mess caused by a bunch of clueless yakuza thugs.

And yet Sano was not entirely at ease with him. Kenshin's last two statements had almost contradicted one another. What exactly did he have in mind?

"Hey, Kenshin." Sano held up one hand in protest. "Before you start explaining yourself, let me get one thing clear."

"What is that, Sano-san?"

"You got into a fight with Shinzei's gang members, beat them up, someone shot at you… and then you lost your memory in the process. But it's back now?"

"That's right." They passed under the generous eaves of a shopfront, and Kenshin's face became hidden in shadow. Sano could not make out his expression.

"You're… you, right? You remember everything?"

"Mostly everything." Kenshin did not hesitate with his difficult answer, and Sano raised his eyebrows in surprise. He had expected the rurouni to try and keep such disturbing news hidden. "There are certain… gaps this one feels will diminish with time."

"Huh." It had not occured to Sano that Kenshin might still be in the midst of an internal struggle. He wondered exactly how much the swordsman remembered. By now he had come to learn that Kenshin was expert at appearing 'normal' when he was anything but. "You sure about that 'mostly'?"

"Sanosuke, I am not at my best right now; that is probably obvious to you." As they crossed the street, moonlight revealed Kenshin's features, composed as usual. But his eyes were wide, and as he met Sano's gaze, a glimmer of something else struck the tall fighter. It was more than confidence; Kenshin was placing a lot of trust in him to reveal this information. "But I am myself. That will never change."

Relieved, Sano hid a smile. "Yeah, yeah, I know that, Kenshin. Even though you came close to…" He trailed off, unsure if that was really even true. "Well you know, we've all had a rough night. I was just checking up on ya."

"This one appreciates your concern, Sano."

"Can't help but worry sometimes, that's how it is. We were all freaked out. 'Specially Jou-chan." As he mentioned Kaoru, Sano saw the faintest shift in Kenshin's expression.

_Not the best time to mention her, you baka._ Mentally, he berated himself. There would be plenty of time for those two to patch things up later.

"So what are we gonna do about Shinzei and his cronies?" Sano steered the conversation in another direction as Kenshin's glimmer of uncertainty disappeared, replaced with the familiar unreadable look.

"To be honest with you Sano, we don't need to do much."

"Whaddya mean?"

"You and I both know we could easily defeat Shinzei and his men, but as I said, I feel our usual way of doing things will not solve a problem like this." Kenshin paused. His demeanour had changed; it was fortified with purpose and conviction. Sano realised the swordsman had thought about this matter a lot more than he had. He wondered what ran through Kenshin's head when he fought; when he ran; when he moved through the night with preternatural stealth. _When_ did Kenshin get the time to process such things? "In the past, I would have dealt with them in a certain way, but in my experience, that has never proved to be the correct answer. Death is a quick and limited solution. And bruises, well, they heal. But to deter or discourage is a different thing altogether. They need _reason_ to change, Sano-san."

Sano shook his head, realising what Kenshin was getting at. Sure, they could beat up these guys a thousand times over, but what would that achieve? He had no argument with fighting if it was to protect others; you could use violence to _stop _someone, but you couldn't use it to teach them a lesson. They would eventually use it against you.

"But what reason can we give them?" He narrowed his eyes, recalling the way he himself used to think. It would be impossible to convince these guys of anything. Sure, it had taken a whopping beating from Kenshin himself to pull Sano into line, but that had been different; he had gone looking for that fight. Kenshin had only given him what he asked for. These guys, on the other hand, weren't searching for anything.

"We can't give them a reason, but we can offer them the next best thing. We can let them choose."

"What, even Shinzei?"

"Shinzei has already made his choice." Kenshin's tone became flat and Sano suppressed a shudder. It was the kind of voice that would have once promised death. "And although my older instincts tell me not to, I am going to allow the law to deal with him. I need to have faith in this system. It is what I worked for."

"Hm." Sano kept quiet. He had his own reservations about Kenshin's plan, but understood the reasoning behind it. The justice meted out by the sword would only go so far. They had to trust that society itself would put these people in their place.

Kenshin must have read the doubt in Sano's face, for he turned, his gaze clear and sharp. "This is not easy for me either, Sano-san. In many ways you and I are the same; we are caught between two ages. It is why we fight. I am a child of another era, and eventually I will lose my place in this new world. The sakabatou is my way of compromising; I use it to protect the weak, as I have not yet been able to fully embrace the principles I fought for. However it is my hope that someday, I will have no need for it."

"No need?" Sano could not imagine Kenshin without his weapon. The sakabatou was as much a part of him as his arm, leg or beating heart. The sword was so innate to his existence; how could he ever speak of giving it up?

"I think I am starting to understand what my Shishou was trying to tell me, before I left to become a hitokiri. This may sound strange to you, Sano, but I am beginning to believe that true mastery of the sword can only be attained by one who no longer needs it."

_Whoa._ Sano realised there was something very important in what Kenshin was saying, but he couldn't quite get his head around it. This would require a few long nights and bottles of strong sake. _Give up the sword?_ It seemed crazy. _Kenshin and me… alike?_ He was startled by the comparison, and by Kenshin's frank admission.

_I will lose my place in this world_.

It was true; Kenshin was a wolf amongst lambs. He had become so out of necessity, and Sano knew he loathed the ruthless nature he kept so tightly reined. The times had made him, and that capability would always be there. But even now, the rurouni's true wishes had prevailed. The sakabatou was evidence of that; this _conversation_ was more than proof enough. The man was too hard on himself.

"Listen Kenshin," Sano slowed even more as he recognised the street they had turned onto. They were nearing Shinzei's hideout. "Don't worry about it. You know, I don't completely agree with some of the things you said, 'specially about you losing your place and all that, but I get ya. We'll stick to your rules, and hey…" he paused, making sure the words would sink in. "Don't go beating yourself up too much."

"This one appreciates your opinion, Sano-san." Kenshin held up a hand and gestured for Sano to follow him as he slipped into a narrow alley, becoming engulfed by the shadows. He could make out the long, solid walls surrounding Shinzei's dojo, just metres ahead. "And I am relieved you have agreed to my plan."

"'Course I'd agree." Sano pressed his back into a hard wall, no longer able to see his friend in the darkness. "Even though I was in the mood for fighting, I'm open to suggestion. This seems like the next best thing, so what's it gonna be?"

"Thank you, Sano." With his voice low, barely audible, Kenshin began to explain.

* * *

Shinzei traced one finger over his nose, which had now crusted over. There was a bend in the once smooth bridge, and he resisted to urge to wince as pain shot through his face.

Battousai had punched him. He had held a _gun_ in his hand, and then he had been in excruciating agony. The world had gone black. Against bullets, Battousai had only needed his fist. It was crazy.

And now the gun was gone. Shinzei had commandeered a set of daisho from one of his men, but the katana and wakizashi secured at his hip did not feel right. He had never been a swordsman.

He recalled the feeling of cold steel at his neck, and shuddered. The man holding that blade had allowed him to escape.

_Why?_

Shinzei could not comprehend it. Battousai's eyes had promised swift death, and yet he had hesitated, even when given the chance to finish Hayashi. What good was a hitokiri who did not kill? And yet Shinzei had a terrible suspicion that, if he wanted, Himura could have taken them all. He was more than capable of it, and that knowledge drove Shinzei to the edge of madness.

_Guns can't stop him; __**I**__ can't stop him. _

Never before had he felt so powerless.

_How can that be?_

A dark, seething unease twisted up through his chest; it was fear, laced with anger. All he had built; all he had made for himself, it was meaningless now. What was the point, when he could be so easily defeated?

_Get a hold of yourself!_

He found the anger, latched onto it, and let it burn. It fed into him, wiping away the weak thoughts; the uncertainty. The rage cleansed him. It felt good.

He needed to escape from there. He would leave, take Yanako and head for the mountains. They would have time to think, regroup and recruit more men. He would buy guns; the bigger ones: _rifles,_ and maybe even a cannon. Or one of those new American Gatling guns. Even the notorious shadow-assassin of the Bakumatsu could not withstand such a weapon. There was no way.

_I'll __**kill**__him. _

The hot embers of his hatred glowed, giving him strength. He drew on this source of power; it made him whole again. The brief moment of weakness was cast aside, forgotten. It was so unlike him.

They would leave tonight, taking only a few chosen subordinates; the best fighters. He would tell Yanako to pack and bring her kit of poisons. They would be useful in his future plans.

Shinzei crossed the room, squinting in the darkness. One of the lanterns in the corner had flickered and gone dark, after burning for most of the night. The wall on the far side became shrouded in darkness, and his own shadow, a mutilated version of himself, bent and twisted around corners as he crossed the tatami. Yanako was in the adjacent room. He would inform her of his new plan, and they would leave together.

"I said I wasn't finished with you."

Shinzei whirled. The sound of _that_ voice sent a bolt of lightning down his spine. In the dim light, Battousai's shock of hair was stained the deep colour of blood, framing pale, expressionless features. But what was most shocking were the eyes; monstrous, piercing amber.

His gaze was imbued with something not of this world; an unsettling, elemental force. For all Shinzei knew, he was a _youkai_ brought to life.

_How had he…?_

The window was half-open, and cold air swirled through, causing the remaining lantern to flicker. No-one could move with such silence.

_Madness!_

Shinzei froze, transfixed. His jaw had clamped shut; he could not speak. The hitokiri regarded him without moving, his gaze unrelenting. There was something different about him now; without the life of that young girl hanging over his head, Battousai was free to do what he wished.

The thought sent Shinzei's heart hammering through his chest. His hand dropped to the tsuka of his sword, but he failed to grasp it. Even with the blades, he had no chance. He had _seen _his opponent move. He would be dead before he could draw.

He had to find a way out of this.

"Wait, Battousai." Shinzei lifted his hand, aware of the way it trembled. "Don't…"

"You have already made your choice." The hitokiri's eyes bore into him, and Shinzei knew he was finished. "I'm here to see that justice is served."

"Don't. I'll give you anything you want. Just name your price." Shinzei knew the hitokiri couldn't be bought, but the words escaped him, hanging between them. Battousai displayed not a flicker of emotion. Never before had his wealth felt so worthless; so trivial.

Battousai remained motionless, hands open and relaxed at his sides, his posture betraying not the slightest hint of violence. Shinzei knew this could change before he even blinked. The entire threat to his life was contained, directed in that awful yellow stare.

There was no way he could convince him.

He knew he was finished.

The raging torrent of anger he had embraced earlier dried up, replaced with hollowness. There was nothing to draw on; no strength. This man had completely destroyed him.

And he hadn't even drawn his weapon.

A terrible emptiness was beginning to wash through him; the last of his defences crumbled.

Battousai did not move.

_**What is he waiting for?**_

Tension strung through Shinzei as if he were a puppet on wires. He was waiting for it; the moment when all would come to naught.

He was not ready!

There was nothing he could do.

The hitokiri remained frozen; a startling apparition.

_He's going to… kill me?_

In his confusion, Shinzei at first failed to hear the shouts from outside; the sound of men assembling around his dojo, cutting off all avenues of escape. Battousai held him to his position as a shrill whistle split the morning stillness. Orders were barked, a sharp "hai" offered in response.

It was the unmistakable sound of the law.

"You're theirs now." The hitokiri's voice was low and soft, but laced with threat. "And whilst you live, do not _ever_ exploit another human being."

"I…" Shinzei was cut off by the sound of boots on the wooden floors; the march of so many feet had a resounding finality.

And then, he understood. Battousai was not here to deliver swift justice. He was handing Shinzei over to an even worse fate. A life of worthlessness; he would be nothing, _nobody_.

For such a long time, Shinzei and his men had owned part of Tokyo. They had plundered, stolen, robbed and taken whatever they wanted. To live any other way was crazy; it didn't make sense. And if anybody stood in their way, they got a smack in the face, or worse. They were like samurai lords of old, strong because they crossed boundaries other men feared to. It had been a glorious thing.

And it was going to end. Shinzei could see it as clearly as the blinding morning sunlight. He would be reduced to imprisonment, without weapons, or wealth. His men would be free; they would soon forget him and pledge allegiance to another.

He saw it for what it was; a fate worse than death.

And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

_Nothing, except for…_

"Kill me, Battousai." For the first time, he held the hitokiri's terrible gaze. It was like staring at the sun; he fought to keep from looking away. "I deserve to die."

"I'm not going to kill you." Battousai could still be ruthless. At every turn, Shinzei was denied.

The footsteps were louder now, hammering like staccato gunfire into his head. They came fast and heavy; pounding, pounding, as if in time to his thundering pulse.

In the space of a few breaths, it would be over.

He had nothing to live for.

_I am dead_.

Shinzei's had shot to the tsuka of his wakizashi and he jerked it from its sheath, whipping it around in a flailing arc. The fluid hiss of steel scraping on wood was all he heard until he screamed.

Pain, anger, frustration.

The hand clamping his wrist was possessed of inhuman strength and he cursed the demon for sealing his fate.

"Don't move." Battousai's voice was no more than a hiss, and as he tightened his grip, Shinzei gasped. The short blade dropped to the floor; it bounced once, with a dull, metallic note. Then, for a breath, silence. All he could hear was the wind rasping in his throat. The hitokiri stood behind him, and he could not move.

_He will deny me __**everything!**_

Then they came, yanking the shoji aside, filing into the room. Men in uniforms, rigid, full of purpose, their faces grey and stoic in the dim light. Like Battousai, they would give him nothing.

They had no swords, no guns, just batons. But there were many of them, and his men were nowhere in sight. It didn't matter anyway; none of them would have been able to touch Battousai.

"Shinzei Takai, you are under arrest!"

It was over.

_I am dead_.

* * *

Chief Inspector Uramura was the last to enter the room, and what he saw astonished him. It was the reason his men had fallen silent.

The one who had eluded him for so long was there, in the flesh! Uramura had seen countless drawings, and even a few photographs. The features were the same, but the man who stood before him was not what he had been expecting.

This man's shoulders were slumped, his arrogant posture broken. His eyes held not a hint of menace. Across his face, a dark pattern had spread, reminding Uramura of a dead moth. It looked like he had been punched in the nose.

As he took in the surroundings, Uramura understood. For behind Shinzei, the diminutive figure who held the gangster's wrist in a vice-like grip was all too familiar.

In the past few months, how many times had he been indebted to this man?

Himura's eyes were veiled by the shadows and his long hair. But there was no mistaking the tension that had been woven in amongst the two; the yakuza and the ex-hitokiri. Some kind of exchange had taken place before they arrived and Uramura was certain it had resulted in Shinzei's crestfallen appearance.

Part of him almost felt sympathy for the criminal.

Himura stepped back, releasing Shinzei. The officers surrounding Uramura tensed, batons at the ready. They had no doubt noticed the katana that hung, sheathed, at the gangster's side.

But Shinzei made no move to touch it.

"Uramura-san." The ex-hitokiri had stepped back into the shadows, and now he offered a polite bow. "This man is beyond reproach."

The one who had broken Shinzei was ever so polite. Uramura returned the courtesy.

"I am well aware of this man's history. We have been after him for many years. Once again, I must offer my humble thanks, Himura-san."

"There is nothing to thank me for." The chain of officers surrounding them parted as Himura walked towards the door, not sparing Shinzei another glance. He was the smallest person in the room, and yet his presence had caused them all to fall silent. Uramura wondered, not for the first time, at how appearances could be so deceiving.

"Wait, Himura…"

"I am finished here, Uramura-san."

The officers nearest to the exit gave the ex-hitokiri a wide berth, and it was only until after he was gone that they turned their attention to Shinzei. The man was wild-eyed, reaching for his sword.

"Don't…"

A tap to the back of the head was enough to topple the big man. Shinzei crashed to the tatami, narrowly missing the naked wakizashi that lay in his path.

"That's it men, he's out. Let's bring him in."

After so many years, it felt like an anticlimax. Uramura shared a knowing glance with one of his senior officers. The man nodded, his expression just shy of ironic.

This time, they had been lucky.

* * *

**Author's note:** I swear there are only two more chapters after this. Two more and I can finally get this monkey off my back! Haha; don't worry, I'm just kidding; it's really not that bad. It's only very occasionally that writing this feels like pulling teeth (hence the slow chapters), but when I start to get into it, I enjoy this exercise in perseverance.

For those of you who are into gangster movies, you might have noticed parallels with Shinzei's little 'we owned Tokyo' musings and Henry Hill's obnoxious spiel in that great film 'Goodfellas'. Yeah, 'parallels' sounds much nicer than 'ripoff'. Or let's call it a 'tribute'… Anyway I do love gangster movies, be they American, Korean or classics from Hong Kong.

Again, thank you so very much to those who have bothered to follow this (especially those who have had such enduring patience, for _years_ even). Your reviews and constructive comments are helping to make me a better person. I even made some minor changes to the previous chapter, fixing a couple of things (thanks to those who pointed me towards them).

I hope this update is okay! Don't worry, more Sano and Kaoru soon…


	17. As Night Fades

It only took one solid punch for the thick, wooden doors of the training hall to break apart, sending splinters flying. Sano cracked his bandaged fingers and grinned. Of course, it was a bit of overkill, but he didn't mind putting on a show now and then.

"Oi, it's him! Get him!" A group of men rushed forward; that was expected. Only five of them dared, and Sano didn't give them a chance. Two went down swinging, another got hit in the side of the chest, and he collided with the fourth, who was unlucky enough to get kicked in the gut. He crumpled to the floor, along with the fifth, who managed to draw his sword. Too bad for him, it only met air as Sano got behind him, bringing him down with an elbow in the back.

The others backed off.

"Hey Heisuke," he yelled, singling out the nearest man. "I didn't think you'd be stupid enough to still be hanging around. You still a whipping boy for that ahou Shinzei?"

"Wh… what are you doing here?" Heisuke scuttled backwards, going for his sword. Sano shook his head and the man quivered, his face ashen grey.

"I'd think twice about it," warned the tall fighter. "Last time you tried that shit, you ended up with a broken arm. And three of your buddies couldn't walk for weeks." That had been in the old days; before he had met Kenshin. With some surprise, Sano realised that most of the men in this hall were familiar to him. At some stage in his life, he had done business with them. Some were almost even… friends.

Friends or enemies, they were all aware of 'Zanza's' reputation. Because of that, Sano didn't really even have to lift a finger.

He stepped forward, and nobody moved.

"Well here's the deal." Sano crossed his arms and glared at the men. He counted about twenty, including those who were now out cold. A few of them were glaring at him with narrowed eyes and he could feel the heat of their anger, rolling off in waves. Although he couldn't touch Kenshin when it came to sensing ki, Sano could tell when a fighter had his back up.

He matched them, stare for stare.

"Don't even think about it. I didn't really come to beat you up, but a few of you have already asked for it."

There were a few raised eyebrows at that; Sano shook his head. "Yeah, even you Hanzo, and you too, Goemon. Just because I get drunk and go play dice with you guys doesn't mean I'm gonna let you get away with working for a bastard like Shinzei." At that moment, Sano decided not to mention that he'd also managed to find the money he'd owed Goemon since last week. That could wait.

"Truth is, when it comes to shit like this, I don't care who you are. You side with a guy who poisons little kids, then you get what's coming to you."

"B… but Sanosuke…" Kamatari was the only one who tried to speak up. Sano silenced him with a glare. They didn't have time for this.

"Just shut up and listen to me. The reason I came here is to tell you this: the cops are on their way."

A murmur broke out amongst the yakuza, and Goemon stepped forward. "What, you mean now?"

"'Course now, you ahou. They're gonna arrest you, and your boss. Now unless I'm mistaken, Shinzei is over in that house with his woman, or whatever, feeling sorry for himself. He's been stupid and cocky enough to think he doesn't need guards. So what you gonna do?"

Even the men who had glared at him now wore uncertain expressions. Sano pushed it a little further. "So, you gonna go and help him out?"

No-one spoke. The men were exchanging glances, whispering amongst themselves. Sano knew what question was on their lips; he had been there before.

_Was it worth it?_

Simple answer: no.

That was the thing with being a gangster, when life was good, when everything was going your way, you were king. But when it all came crashing down, no-one would stick around to bail your sorry ass out. Because, in all honesty, what had you _really_ done for them?

The strong survive?

The weak perish?

Crap.

If you stuck by those rules, they would catch up with you in the end.

Kenshin had asked him to give them a warning; to offer them a choice. They both knew some of these guys had women at home, or even families to feed. What good would come of them going to jail? Sitting locked in a room for years could do bad things to a man, turn him rotten inside. Sano realised there would also be some who wouldn't learn anything from this; they would just continue down the same path. But he was also aware of what Kenshin was hoping for; that this would be an eye-opener for more than few. He wondered what would have happened if his friend hadn't had the same faith in him.

"Get out of here, then." Sano pointed towards the door. "Hurry up. Won't be long until they're here."

They started to move, keeping a good distance away from him as they made for the cracked doorway.

"Hope all this has knocked some sense into you," Sano called after them, noticing a few nervous backwards glances. "Might see some of you at the dice game tomorrow night. And remember, if you get up to any nasty shit like this again, it might not be me next time, but my friend with the sword."

The remaining men fled. Only the men who had tried to fight Sano were left, unconscious and battered, strewn across the wooden floor.

Well, that couldn't be helped. They had asked for it. He waited for a while, but none of them showed any signs of coming around. Sano shrugged and headed for the doorway. As he looked up, he noticed the sky; it was fading from black, turning a lighter shade of violet.

Moments later, he heard shouts. That was the sound of the police. They came in through the front entrance, in _lines_ even, they were fresh and ready; their uniforms crisp, dark blue. There was an air of expectation about them. This was going to be big. He saw the chief inspector and recognised a few of the more big-shot officers.

Kaoru and Yahiko were not far behind.

"Sano!" They skidded to a halt before him, breathless. "What happened?"

"I managed to beat up a few of them, but the rest got away." Sano pointed towards the training hall, for the benefit of the police. "Inside, boys." One of the senior officers took a few men, and they went inside.

He saw the look on Kaoru's face, noted her wide, blue eyes. "Where's Kenshin?" She stepped forward, her cheeks flushed from exertion. Sano held up a hand.

"Don't worry, Jou-chan, he's in there." Sano made his way down the front steps, signalling to the chief as Kaoru and Yahiko followed.

"Oi Chief, the big fish is in there." He gestured towards the house. Uramura shouted some orders, receiving a sharp "hai" in reply. The police marched off in ranks, beating out a steady rhythm with their well heeled feet.

* * *

They found him at the back of the dojo, slumped against the wall. He was hunched over, head in his hands.

Kaoru forgot everything and raced to his side. Sano and Yahiko were close on her heels.

"Kenshin!"

He did not move.

* * *

He closed his eyes, fighting to crush the feeling that lingered. When he had seen Shinzei, those ancient, ingrained instincts had taken hold.

_Kill him_.

How he had struggled to remain still, resisting the urge to take his sword. The anger still burned, coursing through him, gripping his thoughts. And yet he had held back, pushing it down, trying to see through the moment. He drew from the past, and looked into the future. This was not the way it should be.

It was in him, a part of him. It was all he despised. A long time ago, out of necessity, he had embraced it. Now he quelled it, a fire burnt down to embers.

Like Shinzei, he had made his choice.

Savage and cold, the memories rose, unbidden. He alone knew what he was capable of, and it was terrifying.

But it was also something he could control.

_I just need a bit of time._

Out of his hesitation had come a strange victory. Once again, he was his own master. It had never been an easy thing, for the rage that framed his thoughts with icy clarity was an old and familiar one. It offered him a simple path, casting his world in black and white.

"Kenshin!"

More often that not, life was made of shades of light and darkness, interspersed with so much grey.

"Kenshin!"

The things he did now were not so much for himself, as for others.

"_**Kenshin!"**_

Otherwise, what was it all for?

"Kaoru-dono!"

Once again, she brought him back. He blinked, and looked up into wide, blue eyes. She was flushed, her cheeks tinged with the barest shade of pink. He became aware of the slender hand gripping his shoulder, shaking him back into this world.

He met her gaze, and saw no fear.

_I have survived. _

* * *

He wasn't responding to her calls. For an eternity, he would not move; it was as if he were in the grip of a trance. She put her hand to his shoulder and he tensed.

It seemed like hours that they stood there, locked in position, her eyes travelling over his pale face, searching for any signs of life. In truth, it was less than the space of a single breath. She saw the old scar, vivid and shocking against smooth, white skin. She sought out the eyes, but they were masked in the shadows, hidden by a crimson fringe.

"_**Kenshin!**_" Her voice rose in concern, and she shook him harder, willing him to respond.

And he did.

He looked up, slowly, and in that instant, she found him again.

"Are you okay?"

He blinked, staring back at her, his eyes wide.

Violet eyes.

"This one is fine, Kaoru-dono." He paused, and Kaoru became aware of his scrutiny; it was as if he were taking her in for the first time. Unable to look away, she blushed. "Thank you."

The sky was becoming lighter now, deep blue giving way to lilac. She could see better in the early morning light; she saw the fine detail. It was in the softening of his jawline, of his features, no longer cold and set in anger. It was in the way he looked at her. Kaoru held on to this silence for just a little longer, savouring Kenshin and his gentle expression. This intimacy; it was nice.

"He's okay, Jou-chan." Sano was first to break the moment. "They got Shinzei. Nothing major happened. I guess you guys were pretty quick about getting to the cops."

"Yeah, boy were they glad to hear from us!" Yahiko was animated as he explained. "You should have seen the guy's face when we told him what Shinzei had done. _And_ when I told him Kenshin knocked him out. They got so many guys together, so fast, and then we followed them here. Except Ryuji-kun; he went to the clinic to check on that old doctor guy. But man, they sure came quick!"

"You did well, Yahiko-kun." A slow smile spread across Kenshin's face. It was the first time Kaoru had seen that look in a while. A revelation, as monumental as the rising sun. He turned to Sano, and then to her. "All of you did more than could be expected. This one is very lucky indeed."

"Yeah, yeah." Kaoru suppressed a laugh as Yahiko covered his mouth, stifling a yawn. "It wasn't really a big deal. Anyway, I'm tired. Look, the sun's even coming up and I haven't gotten any sleep. Can we go home now?"

Both Kenshin and Sano received a baleful, red-eyed glare as they laughed.

"Of course, Yahiko-kun. Let's go."

"That's a good idea, kid." Sano was the first to turn, inclining his head for them to follow. "We better get outta here before the cops drag us up to the station for a statement."

"That can certainly wait," agreed Kenshin.

Kaoru watched as Yahiko raced ahead, digging at Sano's heels. Then, warm fingers entangled with hers. She was unsure how it happened, but she didn't care. It felt good.

"Welcome back, Kenshin," she murmured.

Once again, he smiled.

* * *

**Author's note:** And we're nearly done here. Just one chapter to go. I actually really enjoyed writing a few bits in this chapter, so I hope it all comes across okay.


	18. Epilogue

It had rained in the morning; the typical kind of summer downpour that gives way to blazing sunlight. The dark clouds had dispersed, leaving the earth damp and the air humid. Trees glistened, their leaves slick with moisture.

Kaoru squinted against the hot midday sun and watched as Sasami ran ahead, tugging at branches. The young girl would laugh as she was rewarded with a shower of water. Beside her, Kenshin smiled.

"It is good to see her so cheerful again. With all that has happened…"

Kaoru nodded, recalling the events of not more than a few weeks ago. Sasami had been poisoned, and had almost died. But the girl was resilient, and had made a speedy recovery under both Megumi and Doctor Yoshikawa's care. Now she was running and playing in puddles; just a regular, active kid.

And yet for one so young, she was also very strong. On more than a few occasions Kaoru had caught her unawares. There were times they came to visit that Sasami would be listless, her eyes distant. Kaoru knew that look; Kenshin did exactly the same thing from time to time.

Sasami had lost her closest living relative. Her grandfather had been killed by Shinzei's thugs; an innocent victim in his manipulative games. As if that wasn't enough, the child had been poisoned; Sasami had come so close to death. It was remarkable that on occasion she could still smile as if none of these things had happened.

Kaoru knew that Kenshin, being Kenshin, felt partially responsible for the young girl's traumatic experiences. He felt it was his fault for dragging all of them into the affairs of the yakuza, which had resulted in Kaoru and Doctor Yoshikawa being captured.

Both of them had tried to reassure him that he was not to blame.

After a while, it seemed their words must have sunk in. Kenshin had gradually returned to his old, cheerful self, and to Kaoru's intense relief, he did not seem to have suffered any long-term effects from being hit on the head. The terrible amnesia and the loss of identity that had followed had only been a temporary thing.

But still, there were times when she wondered what was going through his mind. He had always been prone to odd silences now and then; there were times when he would disappear for the afternoon, only to return with a distant look in his eyes. Perhaps the shock of getting all his memories back at once had triggered something deep; God knows Kenshin of all people had more than enough deep and conflicting emotions within himself.

Kaoru knew when to leave well alone. So for the past few weeks, she had tolerated Kenshin's strange moods, until they became infrequent. Today, it was as if nothing had ever happened. Today was a _good_ day.

As they walked, Kaoru felt a gentle, yet firm hand on her waist, steering her to the side. She looked down and saw that she had narrowly avoided an unsavoury patch of mud. As she met Kenshin's gaze, he smiled. "Be careful, Kaoru-dono. The road is still wet."

"Aa…" Kaoru nodded her thanks, and squinted against the sunlight. The puddles did not seem to bother Sasami, who was now further ahead. "Sasami-chan, slow down!" The girl turned at the sound of her voice. "The two of us are not young like you; we can't go so fast."

Kenshin laughed. "That is the truth."

"Sorry, Kaoru-neesan," called Sasami, as she turned towards them, waiting. "It's just that I haven't been for a walk for ages!"

"I know, I know! But kid, you have more energy than both of us together. Don't overdo it."

"Kaoru-dono is right, Sasami-chan. This one isn't as young as he once was either."

"_And_ you're still healing, Kenshin!" Kaoru shot him a mock glare, well aware that Kenshin had almost fully recovered from his injuries. It was uncanny, the way he healed so fast. Perhaps it was something to do with the fact that Kenshin was a terrible patient. Far from observing the doctor's strict instructions, he would often try and get out of bed days before he was supposed to. If they told him to 'gently' exercise his limbs, he would be out in the yard, chopping firewood. Pain had been this man's lifelong companion; he wasn't one to let it hold him back from doing anything.

Kaoru sighed, and became aware of Kenshin's intense, searching gaze.

"Is everything all right, Kaoru-dono?" His eyes were twin pools of violet, filled with nothing but concern. Kaoru quickly wiped the darker thoughts from her mind.

"Of course, Kenshin. Sorry; I was just drifting."

"That is all right." Kenshin gestured towards Sasami, who had stopped along the path. "We had better walk a bit faster; Sasami-chan is one impatient young lady!"

Kaoru laughed.

The girl smiled as they neared, and Kaoru noticed that the edge of her pink kimono was stained with muddy streaks, from where she had splashed through puddles. It was good to see her so lively; Kaoru recalled seeing the child close to death, her skin inhumanly pale and her lips blue. Sasami had barely avoided slipping into the next world; she really was a lucky child.

"We're nearly there," she exclaimed, pointing towards a thicket of bamboo. "I remember this place." She cut off from the road, with Kaoru and Kenshin following close behind. Sodden bamboo leaves squelched underfoot. The ground felt thick and spongy; a moist forest carpet. When Kaoru looked back, they could no longer see the path.

She was about to duck when the branch blocking her way was pulled aside.

"Go on." Kenshin stood beside her, holding the offending piece of vegetation back. She hadn't even noticed him come alongside her; come to think of it, he didn't seem to make as much noise tramping through the forest as Sasami and herself.

There were some old traits Kenshin would never be able to conceal. He didn't notice, because they came to him naturally.

In the past, his innate stealth, even when moving through a bamboo thicket in broad daylight, would have unnerved her just a little. But now that she knew him better, Kaoru didn't mind.

"Thank you."

Besides, he really was so considerate.

Kaoru slowed as she saw Sasami stop in a small clearing; it appeared some of the older bamboo trees had fallen, perhaps felled by a storm.

"This is the place!" The young girl pointed to three stumps. If one were to connect them together, they would make a perfect triangle. They had aged and turned a darker brown, in contrast to the deep green of the living trees surrounding them. "I hid it here, Ken-niisan."

"You are a very clever girl, Sasami-chan." Kenshin stood beside them, with his hands clasped together. For the past few weeks, while Sasami had been recovering, he had been incredibly patient.

And Kaoru knew it had almost driven him mad.

The night they had returned from Shinzei's dojo, Kenshin had laid down the katana and wakizashi he had borrowed, an expression of regret crossing his features.

_What might have been_.

The next day, they had gone to check on Doctor Yoshikawa, and Kenshin had returned the weapons.

Kaoru recalled the doctor asking Kenshin to reconsider and keep his blades for a bit longer. His face had been pale and drawn, still etched with the pain and fear of the past few days. His hands had been wrapped in bandages.

"_You still don't have your reverse blade, Himura-san. How will you protect yourself in the meantime?"_

"_This one cannot carry such things any more, Yoshikawa-sensei. Besides, Sano-san, Yahiko-kun and Kaoru-dono are here."_

Kenshin's faith in them had surprised Kaoru; it was more often the case that he was used to protecting them at all costs. But for the meantime, the danger had passed. The criminals, or what was left of them, had gone to ground, and Kenshin reverted to his old routine, taking care of the household duties and being as diplomatic as ever. In that deceptively innocent, clumsy way of his, he would keep close tabs on the small tensions that rose between herself, Sano and Yahiko.

It must have been hard for him.

It was so odd to see Kenshin without his sakabatou; it was as integral to him as his beating heart, and yet as the weeks went on, as his dark moods seemed to disperse and grow few and far between, it appeared that he was managing just fine.

He displayed his usual stubbornness in not rushing Sasami. She was the only one who could lead them to it, and he wouldn't hear of asking her to find it until she was more than fully rested and healed.

And Doctor Yoshikawa, bless his soul, had agreed to take the Sasami into his care.

Around them, the dense thicket of trees shuddered, pushed by the wind. Kaoru shook her head. The girl must have realised the importance of this strange blade from the outset. She had found the most obscure hiding place in all of Tokyo. Who would have thought to look in a thick bamboo grove? Who would have been able to recognise such a small clearing, with just a few old trees knocked over?

Sasami smiled and reached into one of the old stumps. "See, I remember this place, because these old trees make a triangle. I used to come here to play."

Kaoru looked at Kenshin, who remained still as his familiar, trusted sword was drawn from its hiding place. The tsuka was darkened with moisture, but as Sasami handed it to him, Kaoru realised the tight fit of the scabbard would have kept any water from touching the blade. It slipped into Kenshin's palm; a perfect fit. He drew it, inspecting the blunt edge.

"As good as new. Thank you for keeping it safe, Sasami-chan." His eyes were calm. Kaoru noticed the way he held the sword as he secured it at his waist; as if it had never been missing.

Sasami nodded, and slid her small hand into Kenshin's. Kaoru smiled as she felt a warm palm wriggle its way into her grasp.

"Let's go then," she turned, and with a gentle tug, Sasami and Kenshin followed. "I'm hungry, and besides, Sano, Yahiko and Ryuji will already be at the Akabeko."

"They better not order without us!" Worry crept into Sasami's voice.

Kenshin laughed. "Well, let's hurry then. Knowing Sano and Yahiko, we don't have long."

"They wouldn't dare…" Kaoru let mock anger darken her voice, and was rewarded with a grin from Kenshin.

Small footsteps quickened, and Sasami hurried ahead, dragging them behind her. Kaoru and Kenshin shared an amused glance.

_Silly rurouni. I'm glad you're back_.

End

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**Author's note**: Well, well, well. So this thing finally comes to a close. In a rather nice, fluffy fashion. It's taken me what… years? I know, I know, I'm pretty useless; that's what happens when you start these things as a moody teenager. Now that this one's done, I think I'll be able to concentrate more on the other stories I have left hanging; hopefully they won't be too far behind!

Sorry for the absolutely crappy/irregular updating, and thanks so much to everyone who has bothered to stick with this story and encourage me with lovely reviews. I really do take a lot of notice of and appreciate the thoughts of everyone who has taken the time to read and comment.


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